


Cardverse-Hetalia Fanfiction

by Anna_Rose17, DestielPhanCaleo_Shipper, EpicWeirdoFangirl



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, Hardly any smut really, I guess angst-not much of it, Light Angst, Light Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:22:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6587251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_Rose17/pseuds/Anna_Rose17, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielPhanCaleo_Shipper/pseuds/DestielPhanCaleo_Shipper, https://archiveofourown.org/users/EpicWeirdoFangirl/pseuds/EpicWeirdoFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America is in love with England. But hasn't done anything about it. Even though they are married, they aren't an actual couple. When America is feeling hopeless a sudden war sparks between Spades and Diamonds, after making an alliance with Hearts as France makes one with Diamonds, things start to… go down an odd turn of events.</p><p>(Brief explanation: Cardverse is set in an alternate universe having to do with the original deck of cards. There are four kingdoms (suits) Hearts, Spades, Diamonds and Club. For each kingdom there are three kings, queens and jacks. At least, that's all that was in the original art work. Spades-K: Alfred, Q: Arthur, J: Yao. Hearts-K: Ludwig, Q: Kiku, J: Feliciano. Diamonds-K: Francis, Q: Lilli, J: Vash. Clubs-K: Ivan, Q: Elizabeta, J: Roderich. The positions aren't bound by gender, as you can see and that's all that was made in the official art. Edit: Thank @APHTrashbin for helping me correct the summary, I didn't know it was official art.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunday Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed a major mistake in my summary that I had just been made aware of but, it said human names when actually, I used country names for the actual story. I was going to change them all but I found no point and a bit taxing. I'm sorry if that's misleading. But no, this story (at least, I'm fairly certain) uses mostly country names and occasionally uses human names. Again, I apologize for this.

America’s POV:

I sigh, watching as England walks away, his long cape flying behind him. I continue to stare at the sway of his hips, at his hair reflecting the light from above (except for the small part covered by his hat), the way his eyes brighten when something he likes catches his attention.

My cheek rests in my hand, my head tilted to the side slightly which must’ve been why China noticed.

I feel a sudden jab at my side and I jump, my elbows hitting the throne loudly from the shock.

“Stop staring at him like that, you’re being so obvious.” China says, annoyance and amusement in his tone.

I feel my face go red which turns a deeper shade when England, originally talking to Romano-the poor kid looked so nervous to be talking to the Queen-glances up at me.

I glare at China who laughs, “Didn’t mean to catch his attention,” he says.

I roll my eyes, crossing my legs and closing my eyes.

I sigh again, rubbing my temples, a sudden headache forming.

“A-are you okay, your highness?” I hear a familiar, trembling voice a few paces in front of me.

I look up and smile, “Yes, Toris, I’m fine.” I say, looking up at Lithuania with his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

Lithuania goes a bit red at the fact that I called him Toris but doesn’t object.

Not that he would if he wanted to, he’d never say anything against the King.

“Do you w-want anything? Would you like to go to bed-do you think you need to rest?” He asks, actual worry in his tone.

I smile wider, “Toris, I’m fine, honestly. Just… a bit tired, is all but not enough to want to sleep early.”

He nods hesitantly, bowing down a moment later.

“If you need anything, your Highness, do not hesitate to call.”

“I’ll make sure to,” I say, Lithuania straightens up and with a final glance at me, he turns and walks away.

“It’s almost time to go,” China says, then adds, “your highness,” with a sarcastic tone.

I nod, letting it slide this time-not that I care that much anyways. England’s the one who makes everyone call us that but I let them call me whatever they choose.

I glance up at the windows, the slowly sinking sun’s rays shining dimly through the glass. It won’t be long before we have to start the meeting.

The tensions have been rising between my kingdom and The Kingdom of Diamonds. I follow China into the Main Hall where the meeting is taking place.

Most of the time, the meeting is just the higher ranking officials in our kingdom. The King, Queen and Jack always come, the Ace, Romano, comes depending on the occasion, and the Jokers are only allowed in when they have to deliver messages.

When we reach the Main Hall, I take my seat at the front of room, the far side of the long table.

I watch as England, still deep in conversation with Romano, walks in.

They talk for a few moments more before England excuses himself, walking up to sit beside me.

“The relations with the Diamonds are wearing thinner each day. I fear that they will declare war soon.” He says after everyone had quieted down.

“I agree.” I say, speaking up. “I was in conversation with the King of Hearts recently and he said that some of his scouts noticed that the Diamonds were gathering weapons from the Clubs.”

China nodded. “I had the same conversation with Japan. He said that should the Diamonds go to war against us, his kingdom will side with us.”

“Great, we need all the support that we can get. If the Diamonds are dealing with the Clubs, there is no way we will be able to turn their trust to us.” England agreed.

“Should we wait until they declare war? Do you think that they will attack first or will they follow the standard procedure?” I questioned. If the history of the Diamond kingdom is to base anything off of, they tend to think out how they will attack but they keep the fact that they will attack a secret.

England thinks for a moment before speaking, “That stupid frog never changes! We should warn the military to tighten the security around the larger cities. If we can avoid severe loss of life, we should take every precaution to protect our citizens.”

“I’ll notify the general once we finish this assembly.” China said.

Suddenly, the door opens in the main hall. Sealand, a boy no older than 12, walks into the hall.

“I apologize for my interruption, but I have news.”

“Well, what is it? There is no need to just stand there!” England scowls.

“I bring a declaration of war from the Kingdom of Diamonds. They also wish to inform you that they have formed an alliance with the Kingdom of Clubs.” Sealand bows and exits from the hall.

I blink at the spot Sealand was just at before turning to England.

“Well then, that settles things.” England states. “If Francis wants a war, then a war he shall have.”

“We should think rationally about this. China,” I say turning to him, “will you send word to the Hearts Kingdom to let them know that we need their help? If Japan is true to his word, then they will side with us.”

“I believe that Japan will stay true to his word. Our kingdoms have had close relations, even before he took the queen’s throne.” China declared.

“Good,” I mutter, already starting to think of ways to go about this.

I don’t say much afterwards, England is glad to take the lead and talk about plans and other things he has up his sleeve.

I just watch, agreeing when necessary or occasionally adding input.

Once the meeting ends everyone slowly trickles out of the Main Hall until it’s only me, England and China.

China looks up at me, raising a questioning eyebrow but I don't understand what he means.

He waves his hand dismissively.

“I’ll be off as well, if you need anything, just call-I’ll send word to the Heart Kingdom.” He says, bowing deeply at the both of us.

England makes a sound of acknowledgement but doesn’t look up from the mess of papers in front of him.

I nod and China nods back, turning and walking out.

I continue to stare at England as I was doing throughout the whole assembly, not noticing when he looks up and locks eyes with me.

“Are you okay, Alfred?” He asks worriedly.

“Hm?” I snap to attention. “Oh, uh, yeah, just-just lost in thought. Anyways, what did you think about the assembly?”

“It was fairly exhausting,” England sighs, starting to pick up all the papers.

I smile lightly, pulling out my watch from my right pocket.

“It’s almost time for dinner, can I have the honor of escorting you there, m’lady?” I smirk, holding out my arm.

England stops what he was doing and glares at me-he’s never liked me calling him that.

I laugh loudly, clutching my stomach.

England rolls his eyes, finishing cleaning up and walks out of the room.

“H-hey, wait up!” I say, jogging to catch up with him.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, I just-”

“It’s fine America,” England says, looking at me with wide-eyes.

I nod, turning the ring on my left ring finger and biting my lip.

“I’ve already told you to stop doing that,” England says in that nagging tone of his.

“Sorry, old habits die hard,” I mutter, dropping my hands and releasing my lip from between my teeth but end up doing it again.

England rolls his eyes yet again.

I open my mouth to say something but I hear, “Your majesty!”

England and I both look up to see Ukraine running up to us-or me, more specifically.

We stop at the entrance to the Dining Hall.

England scowls at her for a moment before he schools his expression back to indifference.

He glances up at me before walking ahead, making his way to the thrones.

England’s never liked her for some reason.

I shrug it off and give her my attention, ignoring how her shirt was unbuttoned a bit more than usual and keeping my eyes trained on her face.

  


England’s POV:

I sniff in distaste as America looks down at the girl.

_How is he so blind as to not notice her obvious advances on him?_ I think, trying to keep from glaring at them.

My eyes widen as America laughs and she turns red, Americ setting his hand on her shoulder.

_So maybe he isn’t blind to her motives,_ I think bitterly, grabbing the napkin on my plate and setting it on my lap.

America slides into his seat and I keep my eyes trained on the wooden table-such fine wood, don’t you think?-as he speaks.

 

After dinner I excuse myself to bed, feeling a bit exhausted and just wanting to get away from America and all the people throwing themselves at him.

I sigh, slowly walking to my room, pushing the door open and standing by the door for a moment.

I can’t help but feel as though something was out of place as I shut the door behind me a light the candles on the nightstand.

I walk over to the armoire, changing into the clothes I wear to bed and crawling under the covers.

I leave the light on since America insists that I keep it on until he comes back.

I sigh, rolling over and almost start screaming.

Sitting in the shadows of my room was none other than France-the king of the Diamond Kingdom.

I bolt upright, feeling my heart rate quicken to unnecessarily fast speeds.

“F-France, w-what are you doing in m-”

“Shh,” he says softly, holding a finger up to his lips and nodding to the door where distant chatter can be heard.

I glare but don’t say anything.

France gets up, his eyes travelling down my body and I feel my face heat up, _how long was he sitting there for?_

“Hello, England,” he says, leaning against the bedpost on the opposite side of me.

“W-what are you doing here?” I hiss. “You’re not supposed to be here! What happened to that war, huh?”

He chuckles, “The war is still on, mon ami.”

“Then what-”

“Am I not allowed to visit my favorite queen every now and then?” He asks, his voice becoming slightly seductive which makes me want to slap him.

“No,” I growl, “you aren’t.”

He smirks, moving to sit by my feet.

I immediately pull my knees up to my chest and scoot back as far as possible-my back hitting the headboard.

He merely crawls closer until he’s leaning over me.

“You look nervous, mon amour, why is that?” He asks, his breath tickling the side of my face.  
I shiver, wanting to be as far as possible from him and yet as close as possible at the same time.

“G-get a-away fr-from me, you wine bastard,” I say, my voice betraying me though by wavering.

He smirks, leaning even closer so when he speaks his lips brush my cheek.

“Are you sure you want me to leave? I’m sure there are other, more desirable, things to do,” he says.

I gasp, his hand sliding down my shirt to the edge of my pants.

I try and push him away but he traps my arms under his free arm.

“F-France, let g-go of me this instant.” I say through clenched teeth.

“And if I refuse?”

“Th-this is m-my kingdom a-and you w-will do as I-I say. I o-order you t-to get away f-from me.”

His hand slides under the waistband of my pants and he runs his finger lightly over my length.

“No, I don’t think so,” he says softly.

I groan, squeezing my eyes shut, feeling my skin crawl and, yet, at the same time, I feel goosebumps rise on my skin.

“Francis,” I hear behind France. “Fancy seeing you here.”

I gasp, trying to pull back but only end up hitting my head against the headboard.

France rolls his eyes, stepping back and I exhale, slumping against the headboard.

“Hello, America,” France says, a smile back on his face as he turns to America who’s standing in the doorway, his arms crossed and his face stoic.

“Might I ask,” he says coolly, “what it is you think you’re doing to _my queen?_ ”

I feel my face burn and try and hide it.

France gets up, leaning against the bedpost as he speaks.

“I think you know the answer to that, Alfred.”

America keeps his face composed-which looks odd on his constantly smiling face-staring at France levelly.

“I’ll give you thirty seconds to leave this castle now before I call the guards.” He says and I feel an odd… thrill run through me as he does so.

France crosses his arms.

“I’ll come back in, just as easily as before.” France says stubbornly.

“Twenty seconds.” America says.  
Something flares behind France’s eyes, “Fine, _your majesty,_ ” he says sarcastically-not in the same way China does it though. “If you wish, I shall leave. Goodbye, Arthur, I’ll see you soon.”

I hiss a couple of curses at him under my breath, wondering why I can’t just melt into the headboard- _become one with it,_ even!

France walks around America, both of their eyes locked on each other in a hard glare until Francis disappears.

America immediately makes it to my side, his face changing to one of worry and concern.

“Are you okay? What did he do to you? I swear I will kill him next time he gets near you,” America glares at the doorway.

“Calm down, America!”I hold out my hands-America is never like this, _I’ve_ never seen him act like this before, anyways.

America turns back to me, his face changing back again- _God, this guy changes emotions far too fast._

“Are you okay?” He asks again, softer and slower this time.

I sigh, holding back the blush wanting to form on my cheeks and look away, “Yes, I’m fine America. You don’t have to act so worried.”

“I’m not acting,” he mutters, getting up and closing the door, the bolt sliding into place with a loud _clink!_

America quickly gets changed, still chewing on his lip worriedly, before sliding under the duvet beside me.

He reaches over me and blows out the lights so the room is suddenly engulfed in darkness-the only source of light being the moon streaming through the window.

I’m about to roll over so my back is facing him-just as I do every night-when he suddenly pulls me close to him and protectively wraps his arms around me.

“I’m sorry-that I wasn’t there to stop him sooner.” He mutters.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I roll my eyes, _classical America-blaming himself for something he couldn’t have possibly done or avoided._

America says nothing-just pulling me even closer so my face is pressed against his chest and tightens his grip on me.

Normally I would’ve jerked away from his touch and yelled at him for even _thinking_ of doing that but I think I may have been losing more sleep than usual because I can’t find it in myself to even _attempt_ at pulling away.

_God, I knew I was sleep deprived but I didn’t know it was_ this _bad._

I sigh, closing my eyes and feeling an odd mix of sleepiness and the exact opposite.

“Goodnight, England,” America mutters, his voice already showing evidence of being tired.

“Goodnight Alfred,” I mutter, snuggling a bit closer to him.


	2. Tuesday Afternoon

America’s POV:

Two days after the meeting in the Spades Kingdom, we had another meeting planned with the Hearts Kingdom to discuss the war looming over us.

Our horses feet clomp loudly on the wooden drawbridge. England, ironically, is in the lead, me on his left and China on his right.

I see a figure, dressed in all red, standing by the gate to the castle.

As we near them, I learn that it’s a small boy who looks a lot like Romano back home.

 _It’s Italy!_ I think happily, unable to keep the smile from growing on my face.

Italy smiles back at me, having to tilt his head up so I can see his face.

I slide off my horse, about to run and tackle my small friend in a hug when I remember-Queen first, friend second.

I hold my hand out for England who goes a light shade of pink, taking my head and bowing his head slightly to hide the blush forming on his cheeks.

I smile, waiting until England has both feet firmly on the ground before turning.

“Italy!” I say happily and that’s all it takes before Italy runs to me, his arms outstretched.

I accept his hug, lifting up his small frame so his feet dangle in the air.

“America!” He squeales.

I hear a cough behind me and it turns out to be England.

My face burns slightly and I set down Italy who hadn’t noticed what England had just done or was choosing to ignore it.

Italy opens his mouth to say something when a loud yell cuts through the air, “Italy! Come back here!”

Both Italy and I look up to see Germany, arms crossed with an unamused expression on his face.

“Yes, sir,” Italy says mechanically.

He turns to me before saying, “We’ll have time to talk later, please, follow me.”

I smile, glancing at England and China before walking beside Italy.

“Hello, King and Queen of the Spades Kingdom,” Germany bows formally.

I’m about to tell him to cut the formalities-there’s no need to be so formal-when England elbows me in the ribs.

“Ow,” I hiss, “Uh, good afternoon, King, “ I glance at Japan who was standing at Germany’s side, “ and Queen of the Hearts Kingdom.” I bow deeply. “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

Germany nods, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

We don’t greet the Jack’s, it’s informal to do it and is looked down upon to do so to someone below you. The Queen doesn’t count though.

“Please, follow us, the meeting will start soon,” Japan speaks up.

I smile at him but he doesn’t reciprocate-he’s  _far_  too formal about these things.

Germany, Japan and Italy all walk ahead of us, leading us down a few corridors to a set of double doors.

Italy pulls them open, keeping it that way until everyone had made it in and shutting the heavy doors surprisingly lightly behind us.

I’m about to walk to the head of the table-as per usual during these meetings-but England grabs my arm.

“You’re not the King of Hearts,” he mutters, pulling me back and dragging me to our seats.

Once everyone was seated, there’s a slight moment of silence before Germany speaks up.

“We’re here, as you all know, to plan for the oncoming war that the Diamonds have so foolishly declared. The main priority is deciding on what military tactics we should use. It does not matter how close our kingdoms are, we have very different war strategies.” 

The council mummers in agreement. My kingdom’s strategy is based around short range and melee attacks while the Hearts are more land based and have amazing mining techniques.

“I believe that we should combine our strengths. We can start building up our catapults and your kingdom can lead the sieges and create blockades around their ports.” England says.

Germany nods, “Yes, that’s what I thought as well.”

“Do you think we will be able to fend off the attacks from the Clubs Kingdom? While their style is not great, they do have very powerful military weapons.” Japan stated.

“While that is true, the Clubs are still wary of the Diamonds. They Clubs are very closed off from the rest of the world. It would not surprise me if they kept a large weapon supply from the Diamonds.” I add.

Germany crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. He then stood up and walked over to a large wardrobe that stood in the corner of the room.

He pulled out a long board and set it in the center of the table. On the board was a map of all four kingdoms and a small box. 

“This is our war map. In the box are little statues that will represent our militaries. And before you ask, yes, we do have your military as well. We have replicas of all the kingdoms’ militaries.”

Japan opened the box and set the statues at their respective kingdoms. Each kingdom had soldiers and little boats.

“This is us now,” he said. “Should the Clubs and Diamonds attack,” he pushed the a soldier doll towards the river that ran in between our kingdoms, “then we will be ready with our forces here.” Japan pushed one of his soldiers by the Club soldier. 

We spent the next few hours discussing different war strategies and by the time it ended, the sky was slowly changing from it’s normal, bright blue color to a darker, enigmatic purple.

Italy led us-England, China and I-out of the meeting room and into the hallway where he proceeded to lead us down a few halls to a room where we would be staying for a bit-rambling on about the Kingdom of Hearts and other things. He said we should visit more often and how beautiful it was, just… yeah, rambling.

“Oh!” Italy says suddenly, as we reach the door. “I forgot to tell you but we’re having a dinner in an hour. We’d really enjoy it if you attended.”

“Oh, it’s been a really long day, I really don’t think-”

“Of course-we’d love to come!” I say, shooting England a look.

England huffs, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“I don’t know about them,” China says, “but I’m coming. When is it?”

As Italy starts talking I notice England roll his eyes before turning around.

“I’ll be in the room,” he mutters, opening the door and stepping in.

I’m about to call out to him when he shuts the door closed behind him.

 _England can be so childish sometimes,_ I think, rolling my eyes before giving Italy my attention again.

 

England’s POV:

I try not to slam the door loudly behind me as I enter the room.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, trying to calm down the wave of annoyance crashing through me.

_Maybe I shouldn’t have been so rude. I mean, that was what I was being-rude. I mean, it’s not like attending the dinner will kill me or something. Plus, America will understand if I “feel really bad” and I come into the room early during the dinner. He might even come with me._

I smile lightly, standing up and walking over to the bags that we had brought-the servants must’ve taken them from the horses and set them here-and start pulling out an extra set of clothes, already slipping off my long, blue coat and setting it aside beside my hat.

As I pull the shirt over my head, the list of pros as to why I’d attend to the dinner keeps growing.

I grab my shirt and-

“Hello, England.” I hear behind me.

I jumped, a shriek escaping my lips, as I heard the voice behind me.

I turn around quickly, pressing my back against the wall in an odd defense mechanism and bringing my hands up to my chest.

My eyes narrow when my they land on the standing, smiling figure in front of me.

“You fucking-” I start to yell but France leans forward and presses a finger to my lips.

“Shh, mon ami, there are people outside.” He whispers.

I push his hand away, suddenly remembering that I was shirtless and feeling my face start to burn.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying-but failing-to keep my voice down.

He laughs lightly, “Am I not allowed to visit the love of my life?”

I glare at him which causes him to laugh again.

“No,” I deadpan.

France raises an eyebrow, “So, you  _are_ the love of-”

“No!” I yell, my face heating up again.

He laughs, “Aw, you look so cute when you’re flustered,” he coos.

That just makes my face turn a darker shade of red.

“How dare you-” I say, stopping mid-sentence when I notice that the space between our faces is slowly closing.

France smirks-as if noticing my train of thought.

I open my mouth to object but as soon as I do I realize my mistake.

It was so awkward since I was about to start speaking it felt like he was devouring my face instead of kissing me. 

Once he realized my dilemma he pulled away slightly to help me adjust. 

Without thinking about it, I slowly start to kiss back, I wrap my arms around his waist unconsciously and he does the same to my neck.

As we do this, he suddenly pulls me away from the wall and before I know it,  _his_ back is pressed against the wall and I’m pressing him against it.

I have no idea what it was but it felt different, it felt like I was… kissing someone else. I’m not sure, I feel like I should  _know_ who it is but I can’t seem to come up with a mental image of who-I just feel as though I was kissing someone… warmer, taller-just, someone  _else_! That’s what made me want more of it.

Next thing I know I see a bright light from my right-the sun was sinking lower in the sky and the bedroom was becoming darker-and I pull away to see America standing in the doorframe and from what it seemed like it appeared that he was on the verge of tears; but quickly, just as I turned to face him, his expression morphed into one of annoyance. 

Not even a second after that America bolts down the hallway.

“America!” I yell, and without thinking-which I’ve seemingly been doing a lot lately-I run after him.

I catch a glimpse of America turning down a hallway and I feel goosebumps rise on my arms and chest at the coldness of the hall and remember I was  _still_ shirtless.

“Fuck,” I curse under my breath, turning back into the room.

“What happened?” France smirks, crossing his arms with a smug smile on his face.

I hold back the urge to slap him and grab the nearest shirt, pulling it on as I run back out of the room.


	3. Tuesday Night

England’s POV:

I hadn’t been able to find America in the next half hour and when I knew it would be futile to keep looking for him, I turned back around and headed back to the room.

Thankfully, France was nowhere to be seen.

I finished changing, making sure that France was gone-as in, he wasn’t hiding anywhere.

Once I do, I keep checking the time until my watch reads 5:50 and make my way to what I’m positive is where the Banquet Hall is located.

I spot Italy standing by the doorway and rush to greet him.

“Italy,” I say rushedly but he cuts me off.

“Hey England!” He smiles widely. “Where’s America?” He glances behind me, as though he were looking for the absurdly tall man who is normally at my side.

“I was just about to ask you that,” I sigh, running my fingers through my hair roughly.

“Oh,” Italy knits his eyebrows concernedly. “I haven’t seen him,” he says.

I nod, glancing at the slightly opened doorway.

“Hey, Italy?” I ask, an idea popping up into my head.

“Yeah?” He asks.

“Can you, uh, can you tell America something-if you see him?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Can you tell him… Tell him I said it was a mistake-that it wasn’t what he thought it was, it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“What does that mean?” He asks curiously.

“He’ll understand,” I mutter, suddenly feeling very tired.

“Is that all?”

“Yeah,” I say, before stepping through the open door.

As Italy walks around the Banquet Hall-talking to people as he goes-I notice America step through the door.

I try and make eye contact with him but he seems to be avoiding me, as I knew he would.

I sigh, continuing to keep up conversation with Belgium who was speaking in excited tones despite my lack of enthusiasm.

 

America’s POV:

“America!” I hear someone yell a few feet to my left.

I look over and see Italy running towards me, a wide, happy smile on his face.

“Hey-” I get cut off as Italy throws his arms around me.

“How have you been? I’ve been great, myself,” he rambles on, while stepping back. 

Italy continues to talk about his life and how it’s been in an extremely happy tone, the wide smile never leaving his face.

At one point, he becomes a bit shy, his face becoming a bit pink as he speaks of a guy he met in the Hearts Kingdom.

I laugh, setting my hand lightly on his shoulder, saying something along the lines of, “It’ll work out.”

Italy has been a bit… torn, on deciding between these two guys in the Hearts Kingdom and whenever I see him, he always comes up to me, telling me more and more about them.

As soon as the clock struck 6, we were to sit in our seats and that was when I wanted to just run away and hide.

Which I did… about an hour later after a whole bunch of tension between me and England.

As soon as we were allowed to leave and have the rest of the night to ourselves I hear my name being called but it isn’t England, thank god.

Italy comes running up to me, “I forgot to tell you this earlier.” He says, glancing behind him where a boy a bit taller than him with blond hair and bright blue eyes was waiting patiently.

I smirk slightly and Italy slaps my arm.

I laugh, “What was it?”

“England loves you,” he says, his expression nor tone never changing.

“Yea-wait… what?” I ask, just processing what he said.

“England loves you,” he repeats simply.

“England said he loves me?” I ask.

“England loves you,” he says and then he turns around and walks away to the boy who I’m assuming is the same one he was talking about earlier.

_England loves me?_

*-*-*-*-*Time Skip*-*-*-*-*

England’s POV:

I pace in the space between the bed and the door, chewing on my lip and tugging on my hair nervously.

_Did Italy tell him? What did he say? How will he react? How will_ I  _react?_

I completely stopped dead in my tracks when I heard the door open and shut lightly.

I slowly turn around and see a wide-eyed America staring at me.

“I’m sorry,” I say immediately.

“You shouldn’t apologize for things you meant to do,” he deadpans and I can honestly say I was shocked to hear that.

“It wasn’t like that America!” I say, annoyed he would think so.

“You sure?” He asks, raising an eyebrow intuitively.

“What do you mean?” I splutter.

“It  _looked_ like that’s what you meant.”

“Do you think I would ever-”

“Yes, I do.” He says.

“Fine!” I yell, feeling angry at America for not believing me. “Fine! What if I do?”

“What?” He blinks.

“You heard me!” I yell.

“So you  _did_ mean it?” He asks, sounding a bit surprised.

“Yes! I did! I meant everything I did!” I yell, my fists clenching at my sides.

Something flashes behind America’s eyes but it’s gone as soon as it came.

He says nothing, just walking past me to the other side of the room.

He opens the doors that lead to the balcony-I thought they were windows originally-and steps out, slamming them shut behind him.

I groan, biting on the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming out loud.

_How dare he think that? Does he not understand that I_ hate  _that frog and everything having to do with him!_

I tug on my hair roughly, trying to think a bit rationally but all the anger pooling in me is making that really hard.

I have to sit down for a few moments before I manage to clear my head and am finally able to drag myself over to where America had disappeared.

I pull the doors open and step out into the warm air, my eyes immediately landing on America’s figure.

His eyes were closed and his head was tilted up to the stars directly above him. The moonlight played with his hair, shining off it and making it look a lot lighter and silkier.

“I’m sorry,” I say, bowing my head slightly.

I hear a slightly bitter chuckle from America.

I look up and suddenly he’s in front of me-less than arm’s distance away-staring me in the eye and it may just be me or the lighting but his eyes look a bit… red.

“Stop apologizing for-”

“I didn’t mean it,” I mutter, tugging on the hem of my coat.

“You didn’t?”

“Stop doubting me,” I growl.

He laughs even if it’s a bit forced. “So you didn’t mean to-”

“No. I didn’t even  _start_ it. That frog did,” I say, distaste obvious in my voice.

America doesn’t have a response for that and when I look up his face is of surprise. “So you  _didn’t_ -”

“No,” I groan, rubbing the back of my hands over my face.

I hear America laugh, a nice, genuine laugh.

I look up and he’s smiling widely at me and I instinctively glare at him.

He suddenly pulls me forward and wraps one arm around his my waist and sets his free hand on my cheek.

He just smiles for a moment before I can’t take it anymore and I close the gap between our lips, feeling fire starting in my chest flare throughout me.

_This was it! When I was kissing France I felt someone else it was him!_

I feel my face burn and am glad America can’t see me.

This one was different from when France kissed me. Last time it was more… sloppy, heated and fast and not as passionate. This kiss was slow and long, it had so much emotion hidden in it and I was overwhelmed by it.

When America pulls back he still stays close, his breathing is a bit ragged as mine is and he keeps his eyes closed and so do I.

America does nothing for a moment before he presses a light kiss to my lips again but pulls away as soon as it started.

He walks around me and back into the room.

After being slightly stuck in place for a moment, I trudge after him, shutting the doors behind me and seeing America already getting ready for bed.

When both of us are laying down under the duvet he pulls me close again, wrapping his arms around me protectively and just like last time I sleep soundly-wrapped in the comfort of the one I love.

 


	4. Wednesday Morning

(North) Italy’s POV:

At night, when I’m in my room, I rethink my decision on telling America that, “England loves you.”

I mean, it’s not like it isn’t true but that wasn’t what England told me to tell him.

I shrug, sliding under the blankets and blowing the candles so the room is engulfed in darkness save for the small bit lit from the glass door that leads to the balcony.

When I wake up the next morning, Germany has me get the Spades King and Queen-“to check up on them,” he said.

“America! England!” I say loudly, knocking on the door.

“Who is it?” I hear England’s voice but it is rough and heavy with sleep.

“It’s me, Italy!” I say, wondering if America was there.

The door opens and standing in the doorway, mid-yawn, was America.

“Hey Italy,” he greets, smiling sleepily at me.

“Germany told me to check up on you and tell you that breakfast is at nine.”

“Oh, well, we’re fine, thank you. And we’ll be sure to be there.” America says. 

England, still on the bed, just hides under the covers, hissing something about how bright the light was.

“Okay, see you there!” I say happily.

America smiles, shutting the door.

As I walk back to Germany’s office, I think back to the encounter.

It didn’t  _look_ like they were arguing, if anything, they looked happy (well, America did).

And if they were arguing I’m sure England or America (more America than England) would’ve been sleeping somewhere else.

So, I guess telling America England loves him wasn’t a bad thing.

I smile, turning a corner and suddenly hitting a wall that I was sure wasn't there.

I fall back, hitting the carpeted floor, a bit confused.

When I look up I see that it wasn’t a wall but a person.

_Holy Roman Empire,_ I think, a blush already creeping up on my cheeks.

“Oh my god, Italy,” he says and I absolutely love the way he says my name. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s fine,” I say, laughing slightly.

He holds out his hand and I take it-ignoring the small thrill that runs through me as our hands connect.

“Italy!” I hear farther behind him.

“Oh, hi Germany!” I say, smiling at the standing figure a few paces behind Holy Rome.

“C’mon, I need you in here.”

“O-okay!” I say, my voice wavering a bit in the beginning. “Sorry, I have to go-but I’ll see you later.” I tell Holy Rome.

Holy Rome nods, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

I smile back before turning and running off to where Germany had disappeared.

I know, they’re married but that doesn’t mean I have to  _like_ it. I was never asked if they should be married, so I can’t be ridiculed for hating it.

As I sit criss-cross on the chair across the table from Germany and Japan, I silently seethe with anger.

I was never given the option to be Queen of Hearts and if I was-I would gladly take it if it meant being married to Germany.

After telling Germany all that America said, Germany started talking about something but I wasn’t listening.

I was paying attention to the small things like when Germany would lean over Japan to point at something or when he’d rest his hand on Japan’s shoulder or when he’d send a small smile at Japan who would return it.

“Italy!” I hear and I jump, my heart rate picking up.

“Wh-what?” I ask, looking up at an unamused looking Germany.

“Are you even listening?”

“I was…” I mutter, twisting the ring on my right hand that says I’m the Jack of the Hearts Kingdom-it has the Heart emblem on it with the capital J for Jack and other small intricate things that I haven’t bothered to look at. I don’t like being the Jack, if you can’t tell.

“Are you okay Italy? You look a bit distracted.” Japan says and I bite the inside of my cheek to say something I will surely regret later.

_It’s not his fault Italy, he doesn’t know._

“Yeah, I-I’m fine, thank you.” I say, wanting to hide under just about anything to keep their attention off me.

When I look up, Germany is looking at me with a slightly worried look and that is what gives me the energy to continue.

“Anyways, what were we talking about, I zoned out.” I say, perking up from my slouched position and forcing a smile on my face.

Germany clears his throat, “Yeah, uh, as I was saying…”

I dig my nails into my palm to remind me to smile and whenever it wavers I just push harder.

_I can’t have him worrying about me._

*-*-*-*-*Time Skip*-*-*-*-*

When it comes time for breakfast, I escort the King and Queen of Spades to the Banquet Hall-I was supposed to do that yesterday but I was a bit busy with a certain blond haired, blue eyed boy and it wasn’t Germany-watching closely at the things America does and how England reacts.

From what I’ve gathered they are finally fitting into the role of a married, King and Queen.

I smile lightly, opening the door for them and letting them pass through.

As they make their way to the table we-King, Queen and Jack of Spades and Hearts Kingdoms-are all supposed to sit at, I sneak off to a table farther down the hall where Holy Rome was.  
He was talking to a small, blond haired, violet-blue eyed boy who always looked like he was afraid of something named Latvia and hadn’t seen me.

I make my way around so he doesn’t see me and wrap my arms around his shoulders and press some of my weight on him.

He jumps, “Wh-what-”

“Hello Holy Rome.” I say, smiling at his shocked expression.

“A-ah, Italy, you scared me.”

“I know,” I say.

“H-hello, Mr. Italy,” Latvia bows, shaking slightly.

“You don’t have to do that you know, I’m just the Jack,” I say, trying to hold back my hatred towards that fact. “Nothing special.”

“B-but-”

“It’s fine, Latvia. Anyways, good morning!” I say happily. 

“Can you let me go?” Holy Rome asks.

“Nope.” I say, popping the “p” in the word.

“I-I have to go b-but I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Latvia says.

“Yeah, okay. Bye Latvia!” Holy Rome says and Latvia nods, turning around and disappearing in the crowd.

“Aren’t you supposed to be up there with the King and Queen?” Holy Rome asks, glancing at said King and Queen.

“Yup,” I say. “But I’d rather be here.”

“You’re going to get in trouble.” Holy Rome says.

“Whatever, I’m not that big of a roll in this kingdom to make much of a difference if I get degraded anyways.”

“Stop saying that, you’re more important than you think.”

I shrug, “Anyways, I wanted to spend breakfast with you. It’s so boring up there and no one ever talks to me.”

“America does,” Holy Rome points out.

“Yeah, but I think he has more pressing matters than to talk to me. Which includes a specific Queen.” I smirk.

“You know they’ll figure out you’re missing.” He says, and I shrug again, pressing my forehead against his shoulder.

“Whatever,” I mutter.

“Oh look,” he says. “They’re looking for you.”

When I look back up I see Germany and America scanning the crowd.

I try to hide behind Holy Rome but I still want to look at them so they would still be able to see my face.

Which Germany does.

His eyes land on me, my arms around Holy Rome, and his eyes narrow. Except, the odd thing is, it wasn’t directed at me-he was glaring at Holy Rome.

When I look at Holy Rome’s face he’s smirking smugly.

“I have to go don’t I?” I ask defeatedly. 

“Yup,” Holy Rome laughs.

“Don’t make me go,” I whine, but by now Germany was making his way towards us.

“I never said I  _wanted_ you to go, you just have to.”

“No,” I whine, hiding my face in the crook of his neck.

“Italy?” I hear Germany’s voice a few feet away.

I look up, resting my chin on Holy Rome’s shoulder.

“Yeah?” I ask, already knowing what was going to happen.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.

Now  _that_  I was not expecting.

“Yes,” I say, confusion in my voice.

He nods, “Well, we have to attend breakfast with the Spades. Today’s the last day anyways, you can sit with Holy Rome tomorrow.”

I nod, still confused.

“O-okay.”

“C’mon, Italy,” he says, turning around and walking back.

I quickly follow him, having a bit of trouble keeping up with his long strides.

I spend breakfast as I had thought-not talking, silently sulking in the far corner beside Japan and China.

America, every now and then, would ask me something but other than that I didn’t speak.

I think England noticed and looked like he wanted to ask me about it but he was a bit too deep in conversation with the Kings and other Queen.

*-*-*-*-*Time Skip*-*-*-*-*

I had zoned out not long after the breakfast started, I was mindlessly swinging my feet and staring at some point on the table.

I notice from the corner of my eye that someone was standing up.

I notice his black cloak with the red trim, his blond hair and his black with red trimmed hat as he places it back on his head.

I turn and see him excusing himself from the table and starting to walk away.

At first, I think of asking if I could go but when I look up I see that they are still engulfed in conversation.

I shrug,  _it’s not like they’ll notice_.

I get up, already starting to make my way to Holy Roman Empire.

I thought no one would notice I was gone but I didn’t see Germany suddenly look up and see me by the doorway to the Banquet Hall talking to Holy Rome. He sighed frustratedly, glaring at Holy Rome before someone says his name and he has to place his attention back on the others of the table.

 


	5. Wednesday Night

(North) Italy’s POV:

After the second and final War Council, the Spades get ready to leave and soon after make their departure.

I look for Holy Roman Empire, walking around until I find him.

He’s standing in a hallway, with wide, almost floor-to-ceiling windows on one half, that leads away from the War Council room, his back to turned to me and he’s facing Germany.

I smile at first, the thought of those two making me do so, but then I notice the angered look on Germany’s face which has me stopping from calling out their names.

Germany notices me standing there and his face changes to a blank one, giving Holy Rome a final glance before turning on his heel and walking away.

Holy Rome turns around, confused as to why he just suddenly left, when his eyes land on me.

“Oh, Italy!” He smiles widely. “I didn’t know you were there!” He walks over, his smile causing me to smile back.

“What were you and-” I get stopped mid-sentence when Holy Rome smiles a bit… flirtatiously and grabs my hand.

He spins me and pulls me close so I fall onto his chest.

He wraps his arms around me delicately but firmly, a smirk on his face.

_What?_

Germany’s POV:

*-*-*-*-*A Few Moments Before Italy Arrived*-*-*-*-*

“I don’t want you around Italy,” I say in a low, menacing voice.

The boy must not get it because he merely smirks, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

“Oh, but why not,  _your Majesty?_ ” He says sarcastically.

“Because I said so,” I growl. I hate using my power like this but if it means that this infernal varmint will get away from Italy then so be it.

“Hmm…” he says, smirking still. “Is that all? No other reason?”

“Do you want to know why?” I ask, leaning closer to him, which was difficult since he was shorter than me (by around 12 centimeters) and I seemed to tower over him.

“Yes,  _your Highness,_ ” he says, his face not wavering in the slightest.

You have to give the kid some credit, normal people would cower over my glare, no one has ever been able to get me this mad and still be standing-with a smug smile on their face as well!

“Well,  _Holy Roman Empire,_ if you want to know why it’s because Italy is  _mine,_ sorry to burst your bubble or anything.” I smirk but still manage to look menacing.

His face registers surprise which is covered up so quickly I begin to think I may have imagined it.

“Really? What happened to Japan-whom you’re  _married_ to? And I’m fairly certain Italy would rather spend time with me, seeing as he had to hide behind me so you wouldn’t find him.” He shrugs, making to look sheepish yet smug.

I’m about to say something when I see a flash of red behind Holy Roman Empire.

I look up and see a smiling Italy but that smile fades and his expression becomes confused.

I school my face back into calmness, glancing at Holy Roman Empire once more before turning on my heel and walking away.

“Oh, Italy!” I hear Holy Roman Empire say. “I didn’t know you were there!”

“What were you and-” Italy suddenly stops what he’s saying and as I turn a corner I see Italy being spun by Holy Roman Empire, him falling onto his chest as Holy Roman Empire wraps his arms around Italy’s waist.

I have to stop myself from going over and punching him.

 _So that’s what you want, huh? Well, Holy Roman Empire,_ I think, forcing myself to walk down the hall to my room.  _Two can play that game._

*-*-*-*-*Time Skip To Next Morning (Thursday)*-*-*-*-*

(North) Italy’s POV:

“C’mon Italy,” Holy Roman Empire smiled in a way that suggested something completely different.

Confused, I nod and as he holds out his hand and I take it, letting him lead me out of the Banquet Hall.

*-*-*-*-*Time Skip To Later That Thursday Morning*-*-*-*-*

“Hi Germany!” I say happily, looking up at Germany.

He smiles, leaning down so close that I can feel his breath against my skin.

I stare, my smile fading and my heart rate picking up.

He smirks, pressing a soft kiss on my cheek.

“Hello Italy,” he says, leaning back.

I continue to gape at him, completely taken aback.

He just smirks but he seems a bit uncomfortable.

I smile back, “What are we doing today, cap-I, er, your majesty.”

He smiles before responding, listing to me the many things I have to do today-not as much as he has to though.

*-*-*-*-*Time Skip To Friday Afternoon*-*-*-*-*

Holy Roman Empire lead me down the busy, cobbled streets of the Hearts Kingdom.

He held my hand, making sure I didn’t wander off and get lost, just taking me everywhere, showing me things I’ve never seen before.

We stumbled across a small festival going on in the heart of the city. He smiled, asking me if I cared to join him and I agreed.

We danced to the upbeat songs played by a small band, Holy Roman Empire staying close to me, his hands always on me.

I enjoyed myself, smiling a lot more, just feeling free.

After the dance, we walked back to the castle, hand-in-hand. The sun, which was slowly fading into darker, red-orange colors, hit our skin, keeping us warm.

He lead me down to the garden, taking me down a few turns until we reached a small paved area. A white, stone bench was placed beside the stone fountain which spewed water, pooling at the bottom.

Holy Rome sat down and just as I was, he pulled me close to him by my hips and set me on his lap, smiling at my flustered look.

“You look so cute when you blush,” he mutters, cupping my face in his hands.

I just turn a darker shade of red which causes him to laugh.

When I look up I see that he was slowly leaning forward and my heart pretty much skips a beat.

I close my eyes, his lips ghosting mine-

“Italy!” I hear suddenly and I jump, my eyes widening and when I look up, Holy Rome is glaring at some spot behind me.

I turn and see Germany standing there, his face blank.

I scramble off Holy Rome’s lap, standing up and bowing.

“Ger-Ger-”

“Hello Italy,” he says and his tone makes me look up.

He’s not seething with rage as I thought he would be, he’s actually smiling.

(It does look fake, but I’m choosing to ignore that.)

“Uh, he-hello Germany.” I say, unsure as to what was happening.

“I came to give you these,” he says, taking his hands out from behind his back and handing me a bouquet of roses.

I gasp, covering my mouth soon after in hopes that they hadn’t noticed.

Germany just smiles wider, it becoming genuine.

I slowly take them, falling in love with their smell and just the perfection of them.

“Th-thank you, Germany.” I say, forgetting to ask why he would give me them.

“You’re welcome, I hope you enjoy them. I have to go, but I’ll see you again.” He says before turning around and walking away.

I nod, still a bit bewildered as to what happened.

I turn back around, smiling slightly because of the roses and then suddenly I feel Holy Rome’s lips against mine. 

I become still for a moment, unable to move and it’s when he rests his hand on my hips and pulls me close is when I react. I pause before I kiss back, loving the feeling of his lips on mine. 

It’s slow and long, and I take my time to enjoy every tantalizing second. 

I pull back, looking up and seeing him smirking. I try to smile back but I feel an odd mix of emotions.

I’m happy, yes, I really am but I suddenly feel… guilt pooling in my stomach because I am still holding the roses Germany gave me.

_Germany…_

“I-I-”

He smiles, “See you later,” he says.

I nod, forcing a smile back on my face.

He turns and leaves, his black and red cape swishing behind him as he walks back down the path that we came from.

I can still feel Holy Rome’s lips on mine, the warmth of them, their softness and their taste.

I press my fingers against my lips, smiling slightly, before walking down where Holy Rome and Germany had left, walking slowly.

*-*-*-*-*Time Skip To Saturday Night*-*-*-*-*

I’m a very clumsy person, so it’s not surprising that I ended up tripping on the carpet.

Germany quickly catches me and I almost gasp when our skin meets. He gently helps me stand up but doesn’t let me go.

“You need to be more careful,” he mutters.

My face flares red and I look away.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

He chuckles, reaching up and twisting a lock of my hair delicately between his fingers.

Feeling relieved he didn’t pull  _that_ hair, confused as to why he is doing so and flustered, I look up and see his blue eyes locked on mine.

My breath catches in my throat as he smiles down at me and I’m suddenly aware how close we are.

Then he lets me go and pulls away, the kiss that never happened lingering in the air and I can’t help but feel disappointed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, all the time skips that told you to where exactly we were skipping the time to and he chapter titles will help you understand how much time has gone during this story. Me and my friend (@EpicWeirdoFangirl) literally spent about an hour (maybe more), making a table/calendar or whatever to see how much time passed and it was all a big pain and at the time, we were maybe at chapter 7 or 8 but we managed.  
> Anyways, comment on your thoughts, leave a kudos, whatever you like, sorry for the mini-cliffhanger.  
> Also, I don't know if anyone has noticed, but me and my friend (again, @EpicWeirdoFangirl) had changed HRE's outfit a bit to fit him being the Ace of Hearts so instead of there being gold on his outfit-it's now red.


	6. Saturday Night

Germany’s POV:

*-*-*-*-*A Few Moments Before HRE And Italy Kiss*-*-*-*-*

As I turn and walk away, I suddenly remember that I had to tell Italy something.

Sighing, I turn back around and am about to call out Italy’s name.

I stop dead in my tracks, a wave of chills surge through my body .

Holy Roman Empire was leaning down, kissing Italy lightly.

For a moment, Italy stays stalk-still, not moving as his eyes widen in surprise.

Then he seems to unfreeze, his eyes fluttering shut as he kisses Holy Roman Empire back.

I turn quickly and half-run, half-walk to the castle.

I storm to my office, my long cape billowing behind me.

I slam the door shut and fall onto my chair, forcing myself to think this rationally and not just go on, head first, and do the first thing that comes to mind. (And regret it later.)

*-*-*-*-*Time Skip To Monday*-*-*-*-*

It’s been three days since Holy Roman Empire kissed Italy and two since I almost kissed Italy.

I was thinking of doing it but decided it might work out better in the long run if I didn’t.

That plan seems to not be working.

I sigh frustratedly, reading the same paragraph on the same document again as I’ve been doing for the last half hour. I’m too distracted but I still have so much to do.

I hear a series of knocks on the door and when I look up the door is slowly opening.

Italy steps in, a small, tentative smile on his face.

“Good morning, cap’n- uh, I mean, your highness.” He says, quickly covering up his mistake.

_Why does he call me captain?_

“Good morning Italy,” I say, standing up and picking a pile of papers off the desk.

As I hand him the papers and list off the things he has to do today I notice his eyebrows furrow and he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to what I say.

_Probably worrying about Holy Roman Empire,_ I think bitterly, trying to keep my emotions from showing in my voice.

“That’s about it,” I say, turning around. “Then you can go back to your Holy Rome,” I mutter, not expecting him to hear.

“What?” I hear and I jump, not expecting an answer either.

“What do you mean?” I ask, turning to face him and leaning against my desk.

“What did you just say?” He asks, his eyes narrowing.

“‘That’s about it,’” I respond, feigning innocence.

“No, you said something after that,” he takes a step towards me and I look down at him, unamused.

“What’d I say?”

“You said then I could go back to Holy Rome,” he says, glaring at me-which is something new because Italy is  _always_ happy.

I shrug, walking around my desk to sit in my chair.

I feel a hand wrap around my wrist and yank me back.

Italy is still glaring at me, his face really close to mine as he pulls me towards him.

“Let me go,” I say, not having the patience for this.

“And if I don’t?” He asks.

_Who the hell is this and where is Italy?_ I think in bewilderment.

“Wh-”

“And if I don’t go back to Holy Rome?”

“Ita-”

“And if I do this,” he says before leaning forward and next thing I know his lips are pressed against mine.

I freeze in place, not entirely sure what was happening.

I reach over and wrap my arms around his waist, slowly kissing back.

He pulls back, a wide smirk on his face.

“Better get back to work, cap’n, or else the King will get mad at me,” he says.

I nod, not entirely processing what he said until afterwards.

He laughs, turning and walking out the door, stopping for a moment at the door but continues walking, shutting the door lightly behind him.

*-*-*-*-*Meanwhile, In The Spades Kingdom*-*-*-*-*

 

England’s POV: 

I walk down the halls, reaching the door to mine and America’s room and pulling it open.

Only to find America and Romano in the most compromising position.

America was leaning over Romano, the parts of their bodies not covered by the duvet were bare which made the assumption that they were naked. America’s lips were against Romano’s, their eyes popping open as they lean away from each other when the light from the hall hits them in the dark room.

“E-E-Eng-”

I ignore America, walking around the bed to the night stand.

Every molecule in my being is cringing away from them but I keep up my poker face, grabbing my ring from the inside of the drawer and sliding it on my left ring finger.

I turn back around, feeling like throwing up, and start to walk away.

“W-what are you doing?” America asks, disbelief and embarrassment and maybe shame in his tone.

I stop at the doorway, speaking over my shoulder. “It  _is_ customary for the Queen to wear his ring.”

America flinches and I smirk, walking back out and slamming the door shut behind me.

As soon as I’m out of sight my face crumples and I run to the nearest bathroom-down the hall, turn left, second door on the left.

I fall to my knees, my eyes tearing up as the acid from my stomach burns the back of my throat.

I grip the arms of whoever had come, not paying much attention to who it is.

When I’m finally able to stop I groan, my throat, my head and my stomach all hurting.

I curl in on myself, the arms I was holding on with a vice-like grip wrapping around me.

“Are you okay?” I hear a familiar voice whisper in my ear.

I look up and my suspicions are confirmed as I lock eyes with France, his blue eyes clouded with worry.

I don’t have enough energy to pull away so I just groan miserably, not wanting to say anything.

“What happened-I just saw you storm out of the room,” he says, glancing out to the empty hallway.

I shake my head, rubbing my eyes roughly with the back of my hands.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, my voice raw and scratchy.

He smirks, “You can’t keep me out for that long, I hope you know that.”

I roll my eyes, making to stand up but France pulls me back down.

“Wh-”

“You aren’t getting up on your own, I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

“I’ll-I’ll live, Francis.” I say, trying to sound sarcastic but my voice wavers.

“I know you will, that doesn’t mean you won’t hurt yourself.” He says and before I can say anything back he stands up, lifting me in his arms as he does so.

“Fr-Francis!” I exclaim, immediately wrapping my arms tightly around his neck so he doesn’t drop me. “Put me down th-this instant!” I yell.

“That I will not do,” he mutters, walking out of the bathroom and turning left.

“As the Queen of this kingdom-I order you to-”

“Shh, mon amour,” he says softly.

I feel my face burn-most likely from anger-and my jaw drops.

“Franc-”

He sighs, “Will you just keep quiet for a few minutes, it won’t take long.”

I glare at him, “Where are you taking me,” I ask, although, considerably quieter.

He doesn’t respond, taking me down the hall until we reach the end where he steps through an empty bedchamber on the right side on the hall.

He sets me down on the bed on the far left and shuts the door but makes no move to get near me.

I sit up, grimacing slightly.

“I’m fine, Francis,” I roll my eyes. “Can I go back now?”

“What happened?” He asks and at first I wonder if he’s joking but it seems like he’s serious.

I sigh, “Nothing, why do you assume something happened?”

“I mean, you seemed perfectly fine last time I saw you as you were walking down to your room and then you’re suddenly running away to throw up in the bathroom.  _Something_ had to have happened.”

I shake my head, “Nothing happened-it may just have been something I ate, can I go now?”

“No,” he rolls his eyes as though this were obvious. “Not until you tell me the truth.”

“That is the truth!” I yell, annoyed that he wasn’t buying the lie.

He crosses his arms, as though he could argue over this all day, when the door opens.

I look up and see America standing there, his eyes widening then narrowing when he sees France.

“See that! Your face turned green! I know something happened and it was because of him!” He says triumphantly.

I glare at Francis.

“Get out. Now. Leave this castle and never come back.” I say.

He opens his mouth to object when America says, “You heard him, get out.”

Francis glares at America before he turns to me, “I’m fairly certain I know what it is went down and I have already told you that  _I_ would never-”

“Get out!” I shriek, my face turning red.

He smirks, walking out again.

I get out of bed-making a mental note to tell one of the maids to make the bed again-and walk around America.

The hallway is empty when I step out into it which is a bit surprising but I shrug it off.

“England, I’m-”

“Don’t.”

“Eng-”

“Shut up, you know I won’t accept your apology.”

“Eng-”

“Stop.”

“Arthur Kirkland!” America yells and I stop mid-step and sigh.

“What do you want?” I ask, turning around, my hands clenched tightly at my sides.

“I’m so-”

“America, I’m not-”

“Just accept my apology England,” he says and something in me snaps.

“I’m not going to accept your bloody apology especially if you don’t mean it! That’s not something you just expect to be forgiven for immediately! Wh-”

“Why?”

_“What?”_

“Why? Why is it not-it’s not like you agreed to this marriage or anything. It was just-”

“Shut up!” I yell, trying and failing to keep my temper in check.

“Eng-”

“Shut up!” I say, turning back around and stomping away.

Thankfully, America doesn’t follow me.

At first, I think of running to my room and hiding under the covers-it is  _my_ room-but then remember that isn’t the smartest or preferred idea.

I duck into an empty room, a long table in the center, dark, wooden chairs around it and tall windows on the opposite side of the room. I press my back against the wall in the corner of the room and just break down crying.

_I’m so stupid for thinking this would ever last long. Why did I ever fool myself into this damn trap?_

I stay there, crying like a damn baby, for almost two hours. I end up curling up and passing out on the ground.

_Sweet, dark bliss…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, leave a comment on just how terrible it was or otherwise, ask any questions, whatever you prefer. Thank you for reading and if you haven't already and you want to, please leave a kudos, the next chapter will be up between 1-3 days, see you then!


	7. Tuesday Night

America’s POV:

I walk down the halls of the castle, now dressed completely in my normal outfit, looking for England.

It seems everywhere I go and everyone I ask has no idea where the green eyed man is.

I’m just about to give up when a flash of dark blue catches my attention.

It’s not like me and England are the only ones who wear blue-everyone in the Kingdom wears blue, we’re just the only ones who wear  _all_ blue (along with China).

After checking that China was sitting by Spain on the opposite side of the room, I head to where I last saw the blue, turning left and seeing England.

His face looks like he’s dead set on doing something as he turns right. I quickly follow but don’t want him to see me so I glance down the hall, my back pressed against the wall.

A few turns later I hear the doors that lead to the back of the castle open and quickly run to make sure it doesn’t shut.

I slip through the doorway, letting it fall behind me and hide behind the nearest thing I can.

Which is a bush.

_If he catches me I’m going to look like such a stalker,_ I think, shaking my head in dismay.

“What are we doing?” I hear beside me and I start to yell out in surprise but a hand clamps over my mouth.

“Have you never done this before?” I hear China scold. “You’re not supposed to let them know you’re here.”

I yank his hand off, “It’s your fault, you scared me!” I whisper yell, glancing through the bushes and seeing England stopping a few feet away from us, his eyes locked on a point ahead.

“C’mon,” China mutters, grabbing my wrist and dragging me down to a closer set of bushes.

“I thought I told you to leave and never come back.” England says loudly.

“You said to leave the castle and I never came back. You’re the one looking for me,” I hear a voice getting closer, “mon amour.”

England’s nose wrinkles in distaste as a figure steps from the shadows.

_France, of course._

“Ooh, this oughta be interesting,” China mutters beside me.

I bite my lip to keep from punching his shoulder in annoyance,  _this isn’t some dramatic play either, man._

“I didn’t come looking for you-”

“Really?” France says in faux disbelief. “Then why are you here?”

“I-I-”

“How did you know I would be here anyways?” He asks, stepping even closer.

_There’s maybe 15 feet between them,_ I think, not wanting the distance to shorten.

“You’re far too predictable,” England mutters.

France smirks, “I’m not, you just know me  _so well,_ ” he says, stepping even closer.

England glares at Francis who was slowly approaching.

“What is it that you came here to say?” France asks curiously.

“Tell you to leave my kingdom and-”

“‘Never come back,’ yeah, yeah.” France waves his hand dismissively. “Never heard that one before,” he smirks.

“You little-”

France laughs. “Mon amour, you have to watch your language.”

“Don’t call me that.” England says in a low voice.

“Why not?” France says and somehow, he managed to get as close as 5 feet without my noticing.

_Damn it! Pay attention to detail!_ I scold myself, readying to get up and-

“You aren’t supposed to let them know you’re here,” China hisses, pulling me back down.

“If he touches-”

“Shh! I know but not yet, he hasn’t done anything yet. Plus, I think England can fare by himself.” China nods to England.

When I look back up, France is right in front of England, smirking.

At first, I thought England had looked over at where China and I were hiding but nothing registers on his face and his eyes slide over us.

When he looks back up, he’s smirking.

“‘Cause we don’t want America finding out, now do we?” England asks.

France gets cut off as England pulls him close by the collar of his shirt and presses his lips firmly against France’s.

What?

What?

_What?_

When I glance beside me, China’s jaw has dropped and his eyes show disbelief.

That’s how I know this is real and not just a figment of my imagination and that’s what makes my blood boil.

Unable to stop myself or be stopped, I stand up, my hands pressed into tight fists at my sides.

England pulls back, his eyes locked on France’s but I’m not paying any attention to him.

Just as they lean in again I run over and pull England back by his shirt.

I don’t think, just act, as I swing my right fist so it connects with France’s jaw.

France jerks back but doesn’t fall.

I do it again, and again before someone-or, two people, it seems-pull me back.

“Let me go!” I yell at whoever is holding me back.

“America! Stop it!” I hear China’s voice.

I turn and glare at him but he doesn’t back down.

“Hurts, doesn't it?” I hear a soft voice on my right and I immediately recognize that voice.

Those three words are what have me stopping to move and, consequently, falling to the ground.

“What?” I ask, my breaths labored.

England doesn’t respond and I start to wonder if he’s even there.

I hear China arguing with Francis but I don’t pay it any attention, just glance up at my queen.

_My queen…_

He doesn’t bother to look down at me, just keeps facing forward with his arms crossed and his face blank.

“America,” I hear a few moments later. “America!”

I look up and see China standing there.

“Get up,” he says in a stern voice and I do as he says.

“Both of you, inside.” He says.

England starts to argue but the look China gives him has him quieting down.

I walk beside England as China pushes us up to our room. When we reach the door he pushes us inside the room saying, “Talk,” before slamming it shut.

England crosses his arms, looking down at me.

“Why?” I ask, unable to keep the emotion from showing in my voice.

England snorts, “‘Why’? What do you mean ‘why’?”

“What did you mean by-”

“What do you feel right now?” He asks in a haughty tone.

“Confused.” I say, just letting the words leave my mouth without thinking twice. “Betrayed. Annoyed. Mad. Sad.  _Betrayed._ ” 

He laughs without humor.

“I know the feeling,” he mutters turning and walking towards the doors that lead to the balcony.

“England!” I call after him.

He turns around, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“Why did you do it?” I ask, taking a step forward.

He doesn’t respond so I walk over to him.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Save it. I don’t want to hear your fake-”

I grab his arm just as he turns back around to leave and pull him towards me.

He looks up at me with wide eyes, his face no longer impassive.

“It’s not fake, England. I really  _am_ sorry-”

“Then why did  _you_ do it, huh?” He asks, venom in his voice.

“I-I-I-”

“Yeah, thought so.” He mutters, trying to yank his arm out of my grasp.

I sigh, rubbing my face roughly in annoyance and frustration.

“Do you want to know why?” I ask in a low voice.

“Yes.” He responds immediately.

“It was because of you,” I say.

“What do you-”

“You-you never wanted t-to go any farther,” I say, ignoring the way my face goes red at that. “All we ever did was-”

“How do you know that?” He asks in deadly calm.

“What do you-”

“How do you know I didn’t want to ‘go any farther’?”

“W-well, I mean,” I scratch the back of my neck with my free hand. “Y-you never-”

“How do you know I didn’t want to take it farther than  _that_?” He steps closer. “How do you know that’s what I wanted?”

My face burns even more, “Uh, I-I j-just assumed th-th-”

He laughs, “You never make assumptions about me America, you should know.”

“I-I di-”

He laughs again, an actual, genuine laugh. He then pulls me forward and before I know it, his lips are pressed against mine.

It takes a moment for my brain to register what’s happening and when it does, I slowly kiss him back.

England pulls away first, smiling up at me. “You’re a better kisser than that frog, if I do say so myself.” He mutters, stepping back and walking out the door to the bedroom.

“Wh-what?” I splutter a few moments after he left.

I hear a chuckle down the hall.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Questions? Anyone hate my story now? Leave a comment below on what you thought or something you're curious about, leave a kudos if you'd like (I don't know why you would though) and the next chapter will be up from somewhere between 1-3 days. See you then!


	8. Wednesday (Of Next Week) Morning

The King and Queen of Hearts hadn’t expected the sudden attack on their second largest city the next week. They were informed first thing in the morning and when the King asked who had attacked he was more than surprised to find out it was none other than the Diamonds.

The city, called Homara, was the second largest city of the Hearts Kingdom and one of their proud possessions. The once renowned city was left in rubble and ash, hundreds were killed from one attack and it was only the beginning, said one of the Diamond generals to a Hearts civilian.

The King wasn’t sure why the Diamonds had executed such an unprecedented attack-no one was, not even the Clubs. The Hearts didn’t know but in that same moment, across the ocean, the Clubs were asking the same questions.

“Why did you need to attack the Homara city in Hearts?” Russia asked, leaning forward to look France in the eye, unaware of how uncomfortable he was making him.

“It’s called the element of surprise, Ivan.”

Russia wrinkles his nose in disgust at the name, he hates it when France calls him that.

“How is this ‘the element of surprise’?”

France opens his mouth to respond but get cuts off by his Jack, “Let’s get this meeting moving, we can’t dwell over the stupid things Francis decided to do-all we can do now is think of how to continue.”

France crosses his arms-oblivious to the fact that he was just insulted-and smirks at Russia.

Russia steps back, nodding, and sits down on his large, green throne.

“How do you suggest we proceed, then?” Russia asks.

Germany’s POV:

Japan, Italy and I were talking about the attack on Homara. I wondered aloud why they would do such a thing.

“Maybe, the Diamonds tried to scare us into submission,” Japan suggested.

“Submission?” I ask.

“Maybe they tried to just weaken us or maybe they tried to attack our supplies that we had in Homara.”

“How would they know we had most of our arsenal in Homara?” I counter.

“Who knows for sure,” Japan says. “He could have spies, he could just ask people, no one is ever sure with Francis.”

I nod, chewing on my lip unconsciously and trying to think this through France’s point of view. (That’s a lot more difficult than it sounds, might I add.)

“Or, you know,” Italy interjects. “We could just fault it to France being crazy.”

“Italy, this is no time-”

“No, I think he’s right about this one. Maybe France was just doing it for no other reason than to create confusion.”

Knowing that wasn’t at all what he was thinking, I nod to Japan.

“That does seem like something he’d do,” I mutter.

“We still have yet to go help the survivors of Homara,” Italy points out.

I look down at him but eventually have to tear my eyes off him.

“Yes, we still do. Italy, go tell the troops and whatnot to go save any remaining people and try and reconstruct the city.

“Would you like me to go with them?” Italy asks, his voice a bit more formal and lower.

“No,” I glance up at Italy but can’t keep his gaze without being forced to look away. 

_What is with me?_ I think angrily.  _I’m acting like a teenage girl on her crush!_

I feel my face flush at the thought. “Come back when you’re done.”

Italy nods, a smile lighting up his face before turning and walking out.

“Are you okay, Mr. Germany?” Japan asks.

I look up, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You looked a bit flushed,” Japan stand up and walks towards me. “And you’re burning up,” he mutters, placing his hand on my forehead.

“I’m fine Japan,” I say, smiling lightly.

“Are you sure?” He asks, looking up at me worriedly.

I grab his hand lightly and take it off my forehead.

“I assure you, I’m f-”

“Hey, Ger-” Italy’s voice is heard by the door which suddenly cuts off.

I look up, letting Japan’s hand go.

“Yes?” I ask, confused as to why he wasn’t continuing.

“I-I,” Italy clears his throat, looking at the ground as he speaks. “The general asked how many troops exactly you wanted to send.”

_Why is Italy acting so-oh…_ I look at Japan beside me, thinking that the only thing Italy had seen was me holding Japan’s hand.

_Great,_ I sigh internally.

“Mr. Germany?” Japan asks.

“Huh? Oh, right-” I glance down at Japan again. “Here, follow me Italy.”

Italy looks up confusedly but doesn’t protest as I walk around him and step out in the hall and shut the door behind us.

“What do you want me to-”

Italy’s question is cut short as I pull him forward and wrap my arms lightly around his waist.

“Germ-”

I press my lips lightly against his and he slowly relaxes under my touch, wrapping his arms around my neck and returning the kiss.

I pull back, a smile on my face. “I’m sorry, I just have wanted to do that ever since this morning.”

Italy’s face goes bright red and he glances away.

I smile, lifting his chin up so he’s looking me in the eye. I press another light kiss to his lips again but pull away just as it started.

“Tell the general to send four troops, we still need most of them here.”

He nods though it takes him a moment to process what I had said.

I leave a light kiss on his forehead before pulling back, “Hurry Italy, don’t want to be gone for long.”

“Y-yes Cap- er, your highness.” Italy bows formally.

I hate it when I think of how lower of a rank Italy is and that he has to treat me like that-even though it’s irrational as everyone does it, even Japan does-but I still hate seeing him act so out of character.

Italy turns around, not before I notice the bright shade of red his face had gone, and walks away.

“So that’s why you’ve been acting strange.” I hear suddenly.

I hate to admit it but I jumped, looking up quickly and seeing a smiling Japan in the doorway.

“J-Japan-”

“It’s fine Mr. Germany,” he waves his hand dismissively. “I’m just upset that you hadn’t told me.”

“That’s something very difficult to tell your queen, don’t you think?”

“He must have a really big influence on you if you’re starting to tell jokes.”

“Hey!” I say, laughing slightly. “I tell jokes!”

“That has to be the best one yet,” he mutters, turning around and walking back into the room.

"Hey!" I complain, hearing Japan's distant laughter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I was too busy doing other things and more or less forgot, anyways, here's the new chapter. You know what to do so there's no need to repeat myself.


	9. Saturday Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aah, I'm so sorry! I forgot to update over the last two weeks and just yesterday I remembered but I was too busy cleaning out our garage and promptly fell asleep. Again, I'm so sorry I forgot but here's the next chapter, enjoy!

America’s POV:

I woke up, my arms around England’s bare waist, my face nuzzled in his neck, by the sound of England yelping and sitting up quickly. As he sat up, he cuffed my nose with his shoulder.

I sat up, groaning slightly and rubbing my nose.

“What was that for?” I ask, looking up at England.

He was staring, wide-eyed, at the doorway.

Standing there was none other than Romano. He shifts slightly, glancing behind him before looking back at us.

“Hey Roma,” I say, smiling slightly, hoping to change the terrible atmosphere.

“I apologize for having woken you up but-”

“¡Ay, Romano! ¡Apurate!” (Hey, Romano! Hurry up!”)

Romano glares over his shoulder, saying something back in rapid-fire Spanish.

Spain had taught me the basic, beginner Spanish but not enough to understand what Romano had just said.

When Romano turns back to us there’s a small smirk on his face.

“Anyways,” he says. “I came to give you guys a letter from the Hearts but I was told you were awake so if you want-”

“No, it’s fine,” I say, stretching my arms over my head and yawning. “We have to get up anyways.”

Romano nods, glancing behind him once more.

“Give it to us in the Dining Hall,” I say.

Romano nods, “See you then.”

“¡Vamonos Romano!” I hear Spain say. (“Let’s go, Romano!”)

“Ay, ¿te puedes calmar?” Romano asks in a scolding tone as he shuts the door behind him. (“Can you calm down?”)

I hear a cheery, “¡No!” From Spain and then the sounds of them walking away, Romano yelling at Spain for something as he just laughs.

“That was something,” England mutters.

I nod, closing my eyes and wrapping my arms around him, loving the small thrill I  _still_ feel whenever I touch him.

“We have to get up, you just promised Romano we would anyways. And we have to get cleaned and dressed, c’mon, hurry up.” He says, slapping my arm.

“No, I want to stay in bed, here, with you.”

“That’s not going to happen, let’s go.”

I pull him closer and hug him tighter, England trying to squirm out of my grasp.

“America, we really have to get going.” He says, sighing.

“Bathroom, you said?”

“Yes, we have to get cleaned-”

“Hmm…” I say, running a finger down his arm lightly, watching as goosebumps rose on his skin as I did so. “I’m sure we can think of other things to do in a bath, Iggy, don’t you think?”

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled but his face was a bright red.

“Great! Let’s go!” I say, standing up and grabbing two towels from the drawer.

I throw one to England and wrap the other around my waist.

When he has his on I slide one arm under his shoulders and the other under his knees, lifting him up and carrying him to the bathroom, ignoring his protests.

*-*-*-*-*Time Skip*-*-*-*-*

When we enter the Dining Hall, it seems, almost everyone in the castle is there before us.

England keeps his head down as he walks past everyone to our seats-the thrones-at the front of the room. When we reach our seats, Romano gets up from his and walks over. He hands me an envelope, saying it’s from the Hearts and that it was urgent.

I took it from him, thanking him and smiling. He smiles back before turning around and going to back to Spain who immediately grabbed him when he arrived and hugged him tightly.

I watched as Romano pulled away only to have his lips pressed against Spain’s. I smiled at the sight, glad to see Romano and Spain happy.

“Oi, America!” England snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Letter? Do you remember we have to read it? It’s urgent.”

I nod, smiling at England, watching as he turns a light shade of pink under my gaze and smiling even more.

I slowly reach over and and lift his face so he’s looking up at me.

“Am-merica, what-”

Before he can continue, I press my lips against his and he immediately shuts up.

When I pull back a few moments later England’s face is bright red and he looks away.

I chuckle, stepping back and opening the letter.

England reads over my shoulder as my eyes scan down the page. 

“An attack? Francis? Why?” England says aloud.

I hate it how he calls him Francis-it’s stupid, I know, to be jealous but I still am. He just calls me America (not that I have a problem with that, just  _everyone_ calls me that) and I still feel my blood boil every time I think of France and what he did to  _my_ Arthur.

“Who knows what goes on in his head,” I mutter. “So are we going to Hearts then? Again?”

England chuckles, resting his chin on my shoulder and wrapping his arms loosely around me, “Do we have to?” He asks, although I think it was rhetorical so I didn't respond.

I sigh, “Fine, when are we leaving?” I ask.

“I’m not sure, we’ll have to have a meeting over this.” He says, and I almost flinch because he turned to speak in my ear and the feeling of his breath against the skin of my neck sends the butterflies fluttering like mad in my stomach.

“Okay, but I’m hungry. I need food,”

England chuckles, letting me go and going to sit in his throne. I follow suit, sitting beside him and waiting until everyone was seated before motioning for the food to be placed out for everyone to get

*-*-*-*-*Time Skip to Night*-*-*-*-*

England’s POV:

“So when are we arriving at Hearts?” America asks.

I look down at him, his head on my lap, and he catches my gaze.

“In two days, since you decided we’re going to have a break about halfway through the journey.”

“But last time we went there and didn’t have a resting time I was brain-dead!” He complains.

I laugh, carding my fingers through his hair.

“Well, it’s going to take us two days to get there.”

“When are we stopping? For the break or rest thing whatever.”

“ _Halfway through the jour-”_

“When is ‘halfway through the journey’?” He rolls his eyes.

“Tomorrow.”

“What?” He exclaims.

“What’d you expect?”

“Later today!”

I roll my eyes, leaning back but keeping my fingers in his hair.

America grumbles something incomprehensible but otherwise keeps quiet.

*-*-*-*-*Time Skip*-*-*-*-*

It’s well past midnight when I wake up suddenly. It takes a moment for my brain to process  _why_ I woke up-a series of footsteps in the room.

I look beside me and see America sleeping peacefully.

_Nothing wakes him up,_  I think with a shake of my head.

I sit up, rubbing my face roughly before looking around. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary in the dark lodging. Most of it is in shadow and the only bit of light is coming from the small window to the left of me-opposite of the one in my room in the castle.

Then there’s a shuffle behind me and suddenly my arms are trapped as someone wraps their arms tightly around my torso and a hand covers my mouth.

“Sorry Arthur, but King’s orders.”

The hand is replaced by a cloth and the last thing I remember is the strong smell of almonds then everything disappears.

I wake to the sound of horse’s hooves clomping, wooden wheels travelling on a dirt road and the feeling of someone’s arm that I’m leaning against.

“It was just a dream,” I mutter groggily.

_Why would I dream of that?_ I think curiously.

“Hey, Ameri-”

“I’m Canada, Arthur,” a soft voice says beside me. “I’d expect you to know.”

I sit up quickly and turn to face who I thought was America.

“C-Canada?” I ask, dumbfounded.

“Don’t tell me you forgot-”

“N-no! I just-wh-what are you doing here? Where’s America?”

“America is looking for you and I’m taking you to-” Canada stops mid-sentence.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask in a low, threatening voice that I never thought I’d use on Canada.

“We’re not going to hurt you ,” Matthew rolls his eyes.

“I wasn't thinking that! That just makes it worse!” I yell, scooting away from him.

“Calm down Arthur,” Matthew says in that calming voice of his and holds his hands out in the way you would to a wild animal.

I huff, crossing my arms.

Matthew chuckles, patting the spot beside him.

“There’s no need for alarm, Arthur, is what I’m trying to say.”

I reluctantly scoot back to sit beside him.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere,” Matty winks.

“H-how did I get here?” I ask, trying to remember everything before I woke up here.

_Wasn’t I with America in the lodging? What happened after that?_

“We may or may not have kidnapped you,” he said sheepishly.

“Wait, who's ‘we’?”

“Canada and I, ‘I’ as in Switzerland,” I hear then I peer out the window and see Switzerland driving the carriage.

_But how could they? It's Switzerland and Canada._

“But you two- you guys are probably the nicest guys I know.” 

Next thing I know Canada and Switzerland are bursting into a fit of laughter.

“What? It's the honest truth.” 

When they finally come back to, Matthew wipes a tear from his eye and sets a hand on my shoulder.

“Nothing Arthur, nothing.”

I nod, still not understanding.

“When are we arriving, Vash?” Canada asks, turning to the front of the carriage.

“Um, in a few hours, maybe less.” Switzerland responds.

Canada hums in acknowledgement.


	10. Sunday Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost forgot again, sorry. But here it is, chapter 10.

England’s POV:

A few hours later, Switzerland announces that it’s time to get off. Canada helps me out, holding my hand as I step off the carriage.

I can’t help but feel my face burn as he grabs my hand, feeling so much like America’s, and helps me down-just like anyone would to the Queen.

“Here we are,” Canada says proudly.

“Where is ‘here’ exactly?”I ask, looking around.

We seemed to be at the Hutt River-the river that separates Spades and Hearts, serving as a border between the two.

“The Hutt River, you should know England.” Switzerland says, suddenly beside me.

“Yes but why?”

“That’s something else entirely,” Canad points out.

Before I can say something Canada starts walking forward.

I quickly follow, Switzerland behind me, and he leads me past all the fishermen and other personnel. He stops nearby a small fish shop and a fairly large ship (although, I’ve seen larger).

“Here’s our ride,” Switzerland says.

“Wh-what?” I ask, whipping to face him to make sure he was being serious.

“Yeah,” Matty says. “It’s where we were ordered to take you.”

My face pales. “Ordered? By… B-by France?”

“Yup,” Matty says, popping the “p” in the word.

“Glad you caught on,” Switzerland mutters.

“Ar-aren’t you coming with me?”

“Huh, oh, of course.” Matthew smiles.

I nod, feeling a bit more relieved.

“C’mon,” Matthew says before walking up to the gangway.

When I glance behind me to Switzerland I notice he’s carrying two bags-wait…  _are those mine?_

I want to say something about it but Matthew was turning left and leading us to the cabins.

_Most likely France’s,_ I think and that makes me feel a bit sick.

“Oi! England!” I hear a familiar voice.

I turn to where I heard the voice and see a familiar, brown haired, tan skinned boy running up to me-yet another bandage on his nose.

“Australia!” I say, my eyes widening.

“I haven’t seen you in such a long time, how’s life been for you mate?” He asks, now standing in front of me.

I open my mouth to say something but he laughs.

“Oh, right, I forgot.”

I look at him confusedly and he elaborates, pointing to my outfit. “Queen of Spades, almost forgot.”

My face flares a bright red and I look away, “Yeah,” I say, chuckling weakly.

He laugh, patting my shoulder roughly.

“You’re here to see the King right?”

“Well-”

“Yes!” I hear Matthew say as he walks towards us.

Australia nods, “I’ll get ’em for ya, be right back mates.”

I want to tell him I’d rather not see him but he’s gone before I can.

“Why did I come here?” I ask, turning to Canada, a slight edge to my voice.

Canada shrugs, “King’s orders, I told you.”

“When did you-” then it suddenly comes rushing back to me.

_“Sorry Arthur, but King’s orders.”_ Then it’s black.

“That was you?” I ask, staring at Canada with wide eyes.

Canada blinks, “Yes.”

My jaw drops and just as Canada goes to say something another voice rings out.

“Bonjour, mon amour.” I hear beside my ear and I can’t stop the shriek that escapes my lips.

I reflexively run and hide behind Canada, peeking out from behind him to see my worse nightmares confirmed-Francis, standing there, in the flesh, staring at me.

“Are you okay?” Canada asks, trying to pull me out from behind him but I swat his hands away.

“Yes!” I hiss.

“Are you su-”

“Yes, I just don’t want him to be near me.”

“But mon am-”

“Don’t call me that,” I growl.

He laughs, “You may go,” he tells Canada and Switzerland dismissively.

“Yes sir,” Canada and Switzerland say, bowing slightly before turning and leaving, disappearing in the crowd.

Now without the large mass of protection-also named Canada-is gone, I feel a sudden urge to run and hide, especially by the look he’s giving me.

“What do you want from me?” I ask, trying to make myself seem detached or indifferent.

“Hmm…” France steps closer, every molecule in my body begging me to just jump into the sea- _anything_  to get away from him. “I want,” he pauses, reaching up and sliding his fingertips over my cheek. I cringe as he speaks, “You.”

I slap his hand away, glaring at him and stepping back.

“How dare you talk to a Queen like that.” I say in a low, menacing voice.

He smirks, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward.

“We aren’t in Spades anymore, mon amour, you have no royal status here.” He says in a voice that is completely different from what he was threatening.

He pulls me closer, his face just inches from mine.

“We aren’t in Diamonds either,” I growl. “So neither do you. I have the upper hand since we’re in Hearts.”

His eyes narrow for a moment before he yells over his shoulder.

“It’s time to go! Everyone, to Diamonds Kingdom!”

My face pales as he turns back to me and smirks.

“I hate you-”

My sentence gets cut off short as he quickly leans forward and presses his lips against mine in a rough kiss.

I try to pull away but he wraps his arms around my waist and keeps me in a strong hold.

Once he finally lets me go I push him back and trip on something, hitting the ground.

A few heads turn to look but no one helps the Queen of Spades.

“You have no right to touch me,  _ever_.” I say, glaring at him.

I see him start to register just how badly he messed up but it’s gone in a flash, a smirk back on his face.

“Says who? Alfred? Where is he, hmm?” Francis says, leaning down closer to me.

I have nothing to say to that and he laughs, standing back up.

“Take him to the my cabin, make sure he doesn’t escape.” He pauses. “Or hurts himself.”

I try and pull out of the guard's grasp but their hold is too strong.

I yell insults at the French bastards back, as they drag me away until he can’t hear me anymore.

No amount of struggling gets me free so they manage-although, with a few bruises, I’m proud to say-to drag me to and push me in what I’m assuming is France’s room.

They shut the heavy metal door and when I try to open it, I come to no avail.

I huff, sitting down on the floor and crossing my arms.

“What the hell did I get myself into?” I groan, hitting my head against the metal door and flinching at the pain I get in return.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I hear a familiar, high-pitched voice.

I look up, a wide smile on my face when my gaze lands on the small, figure clothed in an orange dress, her pink hair floating around her.

“Pixie!” I say happily, not caring if anyone hears me.

 

“Hello England!” I hear several voices call out and to the right of me are Brownie, Flying Mint Bunny-everyone!

“You’re all here! But how? Why?” I ask.

 “We’re always with you, we watch over you England.”

“A-always?” I ask, my face flaring red as a very…  _vivid_ image of my bedroom pops up.

“Okay, maybe not  _always_ ,” Pixie rolls her eyes.

“But usually,” Flying Mint Bunny finishes.

I nod, feeling my face flush.

“Well, at least I have company,” I say, shrugging.

“England.”

“Hmm?” I look up at Brownie.

“You do know we can get you out, right?” Pixie says, flying close to me.

I blink for a moment, completely at loss.

“Oh!” I gasp, “I completely forgot!”

Everyone laughs and I laugh along.

“Don’t worry Iggy,” Brownie says, “We’ll find a way to get you out.”

I smile, nodding.

“We’ll be right back,” Pixie says before everyone disappears.

I smile, crossing my arms with a smug smile on my face.

_They’ll get me out in no time,_ I smile, feeling suddenly tired.

I lean back against the door, my eyes slowly falling shut and a few moments later, I fall asleep.

 


	11. Saturday Night (Last Night)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha, almost (pretty much) forgot. Also, sorry in advance if there are any mistakes, I was trying to revise, talk to my friend and get yelled at, all at the same time. I have such a headache, anyways, enough about my problems, hope you enjoy the chapter!

America’s POV:

Why did England have to leave the exact moment I reach out to cuddle with him?

“England!” I yell but there is no immediate response so I repeat it. “England come back to bed!” Still no response, I slowly get up to go look for him. “England please come back to bed! Pretty please?”

I look around the room, the bathroom, even outside but as I close the door,  _where the hell could he be?_  I think, starting to get worried. I check the room again and look more carefully this time. I walk pass our bags then I walk back and see 3 bags- _my_  bags.

_Where would England go that he needs to take his bags and not say good bye._

I go downstairs to where the guards should be standing and see one guard shaking another one that's on the ground which appears to be asleep.

I rush over to them and ask worried.

“What happened?”

The awoken guard stands up and says, “I have no idea all I remember is that a man walked in said something then black. I woke up not too long ago.”

“So the other is only asleep?”

“Yes sir,”  _alright that's good no one has died but where's my Arthur? If anything happened to him I would never forgive myself._

“Did you happen to see England walk out before you two were attacked?” I ask in a very urgent voice.

“No I expected him to be with you.”

_Great, for all I know England is dead._

“Do you have any idea on who attacked you?”

“It looked like he was a bit taller than you, he had your colored eyes, uhh- he had wired rimmed glasses, too he had longish, slightly wavy, blond hair.”

“Do you mean Canada?” I deadpan.

“Oh yeah that guy.”

I roll my eyes- _everyone forgets Matty_ -then I suddenly think- _wait, did he say Canada did this? Why would_ Canada  _of all people, take Arthur?_

I thank the guard, letting him go to wake his fellow comrade, and walk back up to my room. I pace around my dimly lit room, trying to figure out why and where Canada took Arthur. I’m not sure how long it took me to figure it out but I did.

Matty is in Diamonds, his King being none other than France.

And well, France has it for my queen.

I groan, wanting to simultaneously scream and hit something. I sit down and try to think this through-I may have found out  _why_ Matty took my queen but not  _where_ he took him.

Obviously to France, that much is obvious, but where is France? The only way to get where we’re at is by the river or carriage. Carriage has to be out because we’d know if France was in Hearts, he tends to be very extravagant in his choice of transportation.

I fall back onto the bed, groaning.

But he can’t be on the river because other than the fact that Diamonds aren’t very well known for their ships.

_That doesn’t mean they don’t have ships either Alfred,_ I hear England’s voice say pointedly in my mind.

(Arthur is the reasonable,  _realistic_ , side of my brain, it seems.)

_But wouldn’t we notice if France or any Diamond had arrived, aren’t the Hearts keeping watch for that?_ I ask, even if it is just me providing the answers.

_They had only gotten the news a day before we did, it does take quite a while for orders to spread all over a Kingdom, Alfred._

_Yeah, yeah, so are you saying Francis is on a ship?_

_Where else?_

_A carriage,_ I say, making it sound like a question.

_You’ve already said it, anyone would know if a Diamond carriage had arrived-they aren’t that difficult to spot._

_Wouldn’t it be the same for a ship then?_

_I don’t think he cares much for something he never uses, Alfred._

_Where? The Hutt River?_

_No, in the middle of the damn ocean Alfred,_ I can practically hear England rolling his eyes.

_What? Maybe he already took you or is taking you to Diamonds!_ I argue.

Arthur has nothing to say to that and I start to feel a bit depressed.

There  _is_ a possibility that Francis already took Arthur to Diamonds.

_You idiot!_ I hear Arthur yell suddenly.  _I’ve only been gone for a hours-hours which you’ve spent sitting on your arse. Get up and look for me!_

_It’s in the middle of the night!_ I argue even though I’m already pulling my pants off and slipping into my King’s outfit. A few minutes later, I’m tugging the large cape into place, sliding a golden watch in my pocket.

I quickly jog down the stairs and where the guards along with a few others are, making their way up.

“We need to look for Arthur, I believe he’s been captured by Diamonds.” I say immediately.

They nod, all awaiting my orders.

_Normally, China or England are doing this,_ I think.

_Just do it you-_

_Calm down Arthur! I will!_

(Arthur is also the part of my brain that gets mad easily, it also seems.)

“We need to search the Hutt River for a Diamond’s ship-that’s the only reasonable place where he could be. I still want a few troops sent out over the land to look and see if he  _does_ happen to be in a carriage.”

“Is that all sir?” Someone in the front asks.

“Yes, tell everyone else.” I say.

They all turn around to give out the orders and execute them.

After having woken China up-with more than a few complaints-I’m back on the road, travelling to the Hutt River.

Romania’s POV:

We were at the Hutt River in the Hearts Kingdom.

France, our slightly insane and immature, in my opinion, King had come here and from what I gathered of talk it’s because of a very specific person. Who that person is, I’m not sure-no one ever gives a name to the blank face I’ve been drawing. I’m one of the few “lucky” people who were asked to come on this journey and only accepted it because it meant coming to Hearts or Spades-the very kingdom I wished to be in.

I was sitting on the gunwale of the ship, my legs dangling over the edge as I watched the water below. I watched as the Hearts Kingdom civilians went by their day, opening up their shops and glancing past the shining water to the other side of the river.

_Spades,_ I think ruefully, unable to make out anything on the other side of the river but grass and buildings. Just as I start to silently mourn over my inability to be a Spade member myself, a flash of dark blue catches my eye.

I snap to face the random flare of blue in all the red, orange, pinks and browns. Walking up the gangplank of the very ship I was on was none other than the Queen of Spades.

My jaw drops as I watch him walk with two others beside him. His chin tilted up, his whole demeanor screaming royalty and complete calm.

The Queen’s eyes scan over the ship, passing over me.

I watch as England, flanked by Canada and Switzerland-why, I wonder-walks up the gangplank and onto the deck. I get up, walking on the gunwale, to get a better view of England.

I can’t hear what they’re saying but I watch as Australia gets France. As France arrives and dismisses Canada and Switzerland and speaks to England.

I watch in horror as England’s only protection from Francis (Canada) leaves, rendering him to France who pulls England’s face to him. England tries to get out of his grasp but France has a tight grip on him.

Then I hear the order, “It’s time to go! Everyone, to Diamonds Kingdom!”

Then the Queen of Spades is dragged away, kicking and screaming, to what I’d assume the brig or a (France’s specifically) cabin.

I hear yells all around me, ordering people to do this and that, in preparation of leaving. I stand there, shocked, until I someone yells at me and tells me to get to work. I shake them off, trying to think of how to do something about this.

_We’re leaving, there’s no way I’d be able to do anything without being left behind._

I glance down, my orange and peach clothing (ones I hate so much but have to wear), thinking I could never blend in with the Hearts even if I was left behind and I don’t think a Diamond is someone I want to see.

“Oh, look, it’s the King.” I hear someone say.

“Oh, d’ya think he figured out his queen’s a missin’?” Someone with a thicker voice says.

“Maybe,” the first voice responds.

I look over and see whole swarms of blue-clad people spreading out on the dock.

_Maybe I can-_

My eyes land on a familiar figure, taller than just about everyone else. His blond hair shining in the bright sun, his long blue cape fluttering behind him.

“America,” I mutter, a plan starting to piece together in my mind.

Just as the plan comes to mind my first obstacle-getting off the ship. I look over and see the gangplank had already disappeared and we were starting to sail away.

I was about to jump off the gunwale but I hesitate,  _am I really going to jump off a ship?_

I think it through for a few moments, feeling a bit pressured as the ship moves even further away, then finally make my decision.

I jump off the gunwale into the water. Once I'm in the water I swim over to one of the wooden posts connected to the dock It takes me a bit longer than I had hoped but I manage.

I climb one of the posts, upon reaching the top, I stop to catch my breath as I scan the crowd for America and once I do spot him I bolt towards him.

“Alfred! King Alfred!” I yell as I run.

I see America looking around to see who was calling him. I finally reach him but his back is turned to me.

“Alfred,” I say while placing my hand his shoulder.

He jumps in response of my wet, cold hand.

“Romania, what are doing here?” He asks once he turns around.

“I've come to tell you that England has been captured and he his on Mon Amour, the ship sailing away over there,” I say pointing in the direction of the ship which was starting to shrink considerably.

At first America just stares at me, as though he were checking to see if I was serious or not, then he glances at the ship I had pointed at.

“I know,” I exhale. “I know it sounds crazy,” I say, trying to backtrack. “But it’s true, I was just on there, actually. I saw as England was taken in and then he disappeared-the guards took him.”

He glances back at the ship then at me.

“I’m telling the truth A-”

“And I believe you!” He says. “I’m just trying to think of how you got off the sh-”

“I jumped off, but that’s not the point.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Oh my god, are you going to get your queen or keep interrogating me?”

He smiles, “Spade troops!” America calls loudly.

Everyone-even the civilian and commoners-quiet down at America’s booming voice. The troops start to swarm around is in an organized-chaos, kind of manner.

“Are they going to  _swim_ to the ship or something?”

“No, we have ships over there,” he says, pointing to the other side of the river where larger ships with blue flags with the Spade insignia on them were shown.

_But… they’re across the river. We’ll have to get across that and get everyone aboard and then sail after them._

“What are your orders, your highness?” One of the men asks and I’m assuming he’s the general.

“We need to get to that ship, Get one of ours and we’ll chase after them.”

There is no response but then the general speaks up.

“S-sir? N-not to say that your plan is wrong but don’t you think that by the time we manage to get the ship they’ll have to already have been gone?”

America glares at the man before he quickly schooled his face into composure.

“Just do it, general.” He says icily.

The general nods quickly, turning around and yelling, “You heard the King! Get to that ship!”

America continues to glare at the man, crossing his arms.

“He has a point, you know?” I say.

He rolls his eyes, sighing. “I know, I’m not stupid, but maybe if we get there fast enough then we can get them before they leave.”

“But aren’t they going to be able to see you coming? I mean, your ships aren’t necessarily  _small_ either.”

America hums in acknowledgement.

“And when they  _do_ spot you they can just threaten to, I dunno, attack the civilians and whatnot. They have weapons as well.”

America bites his lip contemplatively,  _he must’ve not thought of that,_  I think.

“You’re right,” he mutters. “Then how are we supposed to get him? If he gets far enough, he can be in the safety of his other ships and one against many isn’t an odd I want to face.”

“You’ll just have to let him go,” I say, suddenly feeling a bit useless since I hadn’t managed to do anything-I didn’t save the Queen or even get  _close_ to saving the Queen.

“I can’t just do that Romania,” America sounds like he’s trying to argue with me.

“I know, but you have to-how do you think Arthur will feel if you get yourself killed while trying to save him?”

“Damn you and your logic,” America mutters.

I laugh, “Never heard someone say that before.”

“I’ll have to tell them to stop,” America sighs.

I don’t say anything, just letting America stay in his thoughts for a moment.


	12. Monday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Alfred's use of "bloody" was put there on purpose to show Arthur's influence on him so don't start flipping shit and enjoy!

Alfred’s POV:

I had taken to bringing Romania with me everywhere I went, he was the only person who kept my spirits up-cracking jokes, smiling, not taking my sarcasm or everything I say seriously. I had given up quite a while ago on joking around with my generals.

Romania also managed to convince me to let that bloody frog take my Arthur and go to Hearts and ask for help-which, coincidentally, was what we were originally coming to do; help the Hearts out.

I also let Romania in the War Council, despite China’s insistence.

The Hearts agreed to helping me get my Queen back, also formally declaring war against the Diamonds (and Clubs). We were told to wait a few days before they were able to get enough troops from both Spade and Heart Kingdoms and it was all I could do before I started yelling at everyone. It was two days before all the troops had arrived and we were to leave

I sigh, rubbing my face harshly.

_I wish England were here,_ I think sadly.  _I can’t sleep without him, I can’t_ live  _without him and yet, here I am,_ without him.

Rolling onto my back, I stare at the canopy above, my eyes trailing tiredly across the bed posts and curtains. I don’t manage to fall asleep until the early hours of dawn.

The next day we sail off to Diamonds, to their capital, because that  _has_ to be where France has England. It has to. But, as luck may have it, he doesn’t. Neither Francis nor Arthur are there.

 

Canada’s POV:

“You  _what?_ ” Australia stops mid step and turns to face me.

I shrug, feeling my face flush.

_“Why?_ You of all people! Why would you  _kidnap_ my  _brother_?”

I look away, “France ordered me to.”

“But that’s just… that’s just-”

“I know, I know, it wasn’t the right thing to do but the  _King ordered_  me to.”

Australia looks at me for a moment and I look away again.

“Then get him back.”

“What?”

He nods, “Find a way to get him back.”

“I can’t,” I pretty much plead. “He’s in some city in the center of the Kingdom, Perduz-I think it was called.”

“Then tell America- _your brother-_ to get him back.”

I chew on my lip, trying to think of how much trouble I’ll be in if Francis finds out I told America.

“Fine,” I sigh, “I will. I just need to-”

A series of loud shouts cuts me off.

Australia and I turn to the direction of the sound and I think I heard… America?

We quickly make our way to where the voices were heard and see a couple of Diamond generals arguing with America.

Behind him stood Germany, Italy, Japan, China and Romania, for some reason.

Without thinking of further consequences, I yell, “Alfred!”

He looks up, his face still set in a hard glare which drops when he sees me.

“Matty,” he says, smiling widely.

“Let me talk to him,” I order the generals.

They look bewildered for a moment but then Australia comes up and says, “You heard him; scram.”

They glare for a moment before huffing, turning and walking away.

“Thank you,” I mutter.

He smiles, giving me a thumbs up before nodding to my brother who seemed to have cooled down.

“Hey Matty, you wouldn’t, by any chance, know-”

“Where Arthur is?” I ask, he nods. “I do, I brought him here and then Francis took him to a city called Perduz in the center of the Kingdom.”

America gapes at me, “Why would you kidnap  _England_? Why  _you_?”

I feel my face burn as Australia says, “That’s what I said!”

“King’s orders.” I mutter.

America nods, although, still a bit miffed.

“Th-thank you, then, I guess.”

“No need to thank me.” I respond.

 

England’s POV:

I despise how I must be monitored all the time.

It's not like I can escape really, we're in the middle of nowhere. But I was getting fed up sitting in that room so I persuaded myself to walk around. 

I'm attempting to find my way out of this house to go outside but I'm failing miserably. Once I finally reach the door to outside I look around, taking in the scenery. 

I wish Pixie, Brownie, Flying Mint Bunny, and the others were here to accompany me, or America. I would give anything to be with him, I wonder where he is now. 

Probably worried sick about me and looking for me. America has always- my thoughts are cut off by someone hugging me from behind.

“Bonjour, mon amour,” I hear whispered in my ear.

“Get off of me Francis,” I say, attempting to push him off but his grip is too strong.

“But mon amour,” he says in a whiny voice.

“Don't call me that!” By then his grip loosened and I could pull out. 

Then I run down the path I came from. I keep running into the house and I don't stop until I reach the room I was staying in. I press my back against the door and slide down to the floor in an attempt to lock the world out.

*-*-*-*-*Time Skip*-*-*-*-*

France had taken to calling me to meals, ordering me down to the dinner table and eating with him. I, obviously, refused but Francis threatened to carry me down to the table if I kept refusing.

So I begrudgingly accepted.

I had tried several times to hide from the maids who went up to call me to dinner but it never worked, sadly.

On this particular day, after being here for three days, we were having dinner-the final meal of the day before I could hide in my room and try to force myself to sleep. It was uneventful, the dinner, I mean. The normal-France telling me about his day and I was forced to listen since there was nothing else to grab my attention.

I didn’t speak, just trying to finish my food as fast as possible.

I finished before he did, as per usual with every meal, and stood up to leave.

He grabbed my hand-somehow managing to get up without my noticing-and turned me around. “Have a good night, mon amour,” he said softly, placing a hand on my cheek and pulling me close.

I was far too shocked to push him back as he connected his lips with mine.

He pulled away a few moments after it started, turning and sitting back down in his chair.

I hastily left the room, running back to my bedroom and slamming the door shut behind me.

I fumed for about an hour- _how dare he_ think _to even try that with me_ -before spending another few hours tossing and turning in my bed, wishing America were here with me.

 

That’s how the rest of the week was, Francis doing small things like that to drive me insane-hugging, kisses, hand holding. I was sick and tired of it and I was facing an almost… withdrawal from not being with America.

I groaned, banging my head against the wall I was leaning against.

_Damn America and his ability to make me come to this state!_ I curse silently.

I had a pretty long and busy morning, the maids had said France wanted me to actually do something and not spend all day in my room.

The only things the maids could come up with for me to do was work. Literally, they had me do all the kinds of things they did and I was past exhaustion and it was only 3 in the afternoon!

_I deserve a break,_ I think tiredly.

It crosses my mind that perhaps falling asleep while sitting on the floor may not be the  _smartest_  or most  _comfortable_ idea but I’m too tired to care. I slowly let my eyes drop, feeling myself relax and letting sleep engulf me-my final thoughts before falling into a blissful sleeping state being America.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does the story seemed rushed to you? I dunno, to me I feel like it's being a it rushed and it isn't being very detailed. I apologize for this, I'll try to make it better but we've only got 4 chapters left so… yay?


	13. Monday (Of Next Week)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, as I've been re-reading this for editing purposes, I've noticed that my writing style has changed a lot. I used to write so shittily (that's not a word, I don't care) and my sentences so plain and short. (Much like me, hahaha.) I do apologize but even though I've tried to revise it and add more details, it's just a lost case. Anyways, if any of you seem to enjoy this, I'll be glad (glad?) to inform you that there are only 2 chapters after this. They will be out before the month ends so… Yeah, it's not much but I hope you enjoyed, here's the next chapter for all of you who actually like this. (I feel like I repeated myself at some point….)

England’s POV:

I wake up when I hear a knock on the door.

“Go away America,” I grumble, reaching for the blanket to pull over my face but I don’t feel it.

“Bloody-” I open my eyes and then it suddenly comes back to me.

“I’m not America, mon amour.” I hear France’s voice from the other side of the door.

“Go away!” I yell, wanting to throw something at the door but don’t find anything to do so.

I hear a chuckle then the sound of the door slowly opening. I scramble in a standing to position and try to get as far away from the door as possible.

“Stay away from me,” I growl.

“There’s no need to be like that, mon amour.” France says softly, shutting the door behind him.

I glare at him, as he steps forward, reaching out for me. I try to slap his hand away but he doesn’t give up and before I know it, he’s right in front of me, his hand on my cheek, looking down at me.

“Don’t touch me you-”

“Shh, mon amour, no need to be so loud. Everyone in the manor is asleep, wouldn’t want to wake them up now, would we?” France whispers, his face getting even closer to mine.

I move to push him but he just grabs my wrists and pulls me forward, pressing his lips against mine. No amount of struggling gets him to let me go and I suddenly find myself trapped between him and the wall. My hands are pinned up against the wall as well, above my head as I feel his tongue pretty much forcing its way down my throat. I can’t push him back from having just woken up, my hands are trapped, I can’t move in any direction.

“Just give into the temptation, Arthur,” France says in a low voice beside my ear and even though I hate to admit it I can’t help the small thrill I feel from it.

“L-let m-me g-go you b-bastard,” I manage to choke out.

Then I can’t help but gasp as I feel his lips attack my neck. My back arches automatically and I try and resist but Francis seems to know exactly what to do and where.

“L-l-let me g-go, Fr-Francis!” I yell, trying to push him back but as previous tries have proven, to no avail.

A loud moan escapes my lips and I bite my lip to shut up but it’s too late.

“See that Arthur, just keep doing that, mon amour.”

Francis continues with what he’s doing and I slowly melt, feeling my guard slowly failing.

I hear a sudden bang, almost like the door hitting the wall, and then France is pulled back harshly. I lose the only support I had and fall to the ground with a loud bang. I’m not sure how anyone had managed to get close and not have us hear but apparently they have-I was having a bit of trouble concentrating, it seems.

I look up just in time to see America, towering over France, and his fist going down to hit France.

I have no honest idea what took over me but for some reason I yelled, “Stop!”

America looks up, the blaze in his eyes dying as he looks up at me in confusion and slight bit hurt.

“Th-there’s no n-need to hurt him, Alfred.” I say, trying to sound condescending.

“Yes,” he deadpans. “There is.”

I send him a glare, trying to get him to back down. He grunts, pushing Francis back so he falls onto his back, and stands up.

I follow suit, smoothing out my outfit and clearing my throat before speaking.

“Like I said-don’t touch me. Ever.”

Then I look up at America and my resolve to stay professional drops. I can’t stop the smile that grows on my face and I run towards him (it doesn’t take long) and he opens his arms out for me just I jump up and wrap mine around his neck. He wraps his arms tightly around my waist and I kind of melt in his arms. 

“I missed you so much,” I say, feeling my face burn but don’t care.

I feel America nod and then the sound of someone being dragged from the room-France most likely-follows.

“I missed you too,” America mutters, hugging me tighter.

America lets me down and as he does I pull him by the collar of his coat and connect his lips to mine.

I never knew how much I could crave the feeling of his lips-just  _him_  in general.

When I pull back America blinks then he smiles widely.

“Come on, m’lady, we have a kingd-ow!” He yelps, rubbing his arm where I slapped him.

“Don’t call me that,” I growl but there’s a playful smirk on my face.

He laughs, grabbing my hand and lacing his fingers with mine. He leads me out of the room I just spent a few days in, moping about how I couldn’t see America and how much I missed him.

I try to hide my blush by bowing my head and letting my hair fall down a bit.

He leads me out the door I was never allowed to go through, taking me to where the carriage was. I smile, finally feeling like I could escape this hell hole as my eyes land on the familiar, blue carriage.

Alfred opens the door for me, helping me in and shutting the door behind him as he gets in as well.

“What are you going to do to France?” I ask curiously.

“Imprison him, what else?”

“Wh-what?” I splutter. “You can’t arrest a King!”

“Yes I can, especially if they take my queen.” He mutters and before I know it, I’m sitting on his lap, his face merely inches from mine.

“Th-that’s n-not how it w-works Alfred.” I say, trying to keep the blush from forming on my cheeks.

Alfred hums, not listening to me as always, and grabs my hands. He wraps my arms around his neck and his own arms around my waist.

“So?” He asks, his breath tickling the skin of my neck where I’m sure there were several marks that Francis had left.

From the way his eyes narrowed on my neck, my assumption must’ve been true.

“You can’t-”

“Well,” he says, whispering in my ear seductively even though what he says has nothing at all to do with seductiveness. “I’m going to anyways.”

I almost moan-how I’ve missed the sound of his voice-but bite my lip to keep from doing so.

I hear Alfred growl and I jump, “What’s wrong?”

“He touched you,” he says, running his fingers lightly over the left side of my neck.

I smile, “There’s no need to be so childish Alfred.”

“I’m not being childish.” He rolls his eyes.

I raise an eyebrow, “I’d beg to dif-”

I get cut off as Alfred presses his lips against mine and I immediately kiss him back.

The kiss slowly becomes heated as I tangle my fingers in his hair-how I’ve missed the feeling of this-and pull him even closer.

“King Alfred!” I hear suddenly and I jump, pulling back immediately.

Alfred groans and I slap his arm, “Stop being so childish.”

“I’m not being childish,” America pouts.

“Just go,” I sigh, trying to climb off his lap.

He quickly pulls me in for another kiss before he smiles, letting me get off and standing up.

He opens the door and I peer behind him to see…  _Romania?_

“Oh, hey Vlad-”

“When are we going back?” Romania asks.

“Right now.” Alfred says, making it sound like a question.

“Okay, where am I riding?” He asks.

“Here.” Alfred says, again, making it sound like a question. “Why wouldn’t you?”

Romania laughs, “I can think of many reasons.” He pauses, glancing behind Alfred at me before looking back up at Alfred. “Well, maybe just one.” He winks.

“Romania!” Alfred sputters.

Romania laughs, “Okay, calm down. Anyways, I’m going to tell the generals that we’re leaving now.”

“O-okay.” Alfred says-asks, really by the tone of his voice, but whatever.

Romania then disappears but only for a moment.

“Okay, after you, your highness.”

“I already said you don’t have to call me-”

“Yes he does, Alfred,” I say sternly.

America groans, “But why?” He turns around, pouting.

“Do you really want to argue with me on this?” I raise an eyebrow.

America groans, “Come on in, Romania.”

Romania smirks, his eyes flickering between the two of us.

Romania sits on the opposite side of the carriage, telling the driver that we can go now.


	14. Saturday Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aah, sorry, I've been experiencing the biggest block in the universe so I've been staying away from my computer and haven't been on in a while. Anyways, two chapters (counting this one) left, I'll post the next one in a few days (I promise). Anyways, here's the next chapter, enjoy!

Liechtenstein’s POV:

I walk up the small aisle that leads to where the two men are standing, dressed in blue suits and matching long, blue coat.

They both looked like what they were-royalty.

 _America and England, King and Queen of Spades,_  I think, a bit awed.

As I near them I see the very reason I’m here, under trial, standing beside the Jack of Spades-China, who was on America’s left.

 _Francis,_ I keep from glaring at him as I stop a few paces away from the King and Queen of Spades.

“Good afternoon, Liechtenstein, Queen of Diamonds.” England greets formally, bowing.

I smile, bowing in return, “And good afternoon to you, England, Queen of Spades.”

England goes a bit red at the ears as I say, “Queen,” but doesn’t comment.

“Liechtenstein,” America bows as well and I return it.

As America says why we’re all gathered here-it sounded rehearsed and every time he would stumble England would lean over and whisper something-I glanced around at everyone around me.

They were all dressed in blue, for obvious reasons, I just wasn’t used to it.

We…well, no,  _they_ spent the next hour debating over whether or not to let Francis go.

They finally decided that they couldn’t keep the King of Diamonds without having something even worse in their hands and had him let go.

When China took the shackles off of France he immediately went to me.

He held his arms out saying, “Liechten-”

I cut him short by sliding off my glove and striking him on the side of his face with it.

A loud round of laughter is heard but I ignore it.

“You idio-”

“I’m sorry,” France says, rubbing his face.

I huff, putting my glove back on before reaching over and pulling him by his ear.

“Come on,” I mutter. “Goodbye, King and Queen of Spades. I hope to meet you again when not under these…circumstances.” I say, shooting France a look.

France groans, “You don’t have to do this you know?”

“Yes, I do.” I say, glaring at him.

“We hope to meet you again, as well.” England smiles.

I smile in response, bowing again before taking my leave, still holding onto France’s ear tightly.

*-*-*-*-*Time Skip to Sunday (Early) Afternoon*-*-*-*-*

Romania’s POV:

We were in Spades today, just like yesterday but we weren’t in the Main Hall. We were in America’s office.

There were nine people in the room. The King, Queen, Jack and Ace of both Kingdoms-Spades and Diamonds.

They stood at either side of America’s desk, Spades on my left and Diamond on my right. Between them, was the document that both Kings and Ace had to sign to allow me to become a Spade.

I was ecstatic, I had wanted this ever since I could remember. It wasn’t even me who proposed I switch Kingdoms-it was none other than the Queen himself.

I glanced at said Queen, he was standing behind America, his hands were linked in front of him, a small smile on his face.

After everyone had settled in the room, America spoke up.

“We all know why we’re here so let’s just get straight to the point. Who’s in favor of Romania switching kingdoms, please raise your hand.”

I look around and count six hands.

“Who’s  _not_ in favor?” America asks, putting his hand down.

Only two people raise their hands-France and Switzerland.

I keep from glaring at them by staring at America.

America smiles at me as he speaks, “Well, majority rules.” He shrugs.

I smile in response, watching as France (begrudgingly), Canada, America and Romano all walk up and sign the paper.

“That’s that,” America says, grabbing the paper and handing it to me.

I can’t keep the smile from growing on my face- _I’m a Spade now!_

England then takes the lead, escorting the Diamonds out and bidding them a good rest of the day.

Romano turns to me, “Congratulations, Romania.” He says stiffly. “I’ll be showing you around later on today, first, China will show you where you’re going to be living in for the time being.”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing at the amount of effort he’s putting in just for this and nod, glancing behind him at China.

Romano nods, quickly walking around me and out the door.

“Your stuff is already in your room, you don’t have to go there immediately but if you want China will show you the way.”

“It’s fine,” I say, looking up at England who had just spoken.

“Congrats, Romania,” I hear America say then an arm is wrapped around my shoulders.

“Thank you,” I mutter.

“I know I’ve said this several time but thank you, Romania, For bringing back Arthur.”

I shrug, smiling at England who had gone a bit red. “That? That was nothing, anyone would’ve done that. Especially by how insane you were going without him.”

“Hey!” America protests whilst England and I laugh.

America lets me go, crossing his arms.

England set a hand on America’s arm, smiling lightly, before turning to me.

“Do you want to get ready for lunch or do you want to stick with us until then?”

“Which one is better?” I smirk.

America laughs, “I dunno, your room looks pretty interesting, it’s all empty.”

“Hmm…” I ponder. “I guess I’m stuck with you.”

“You make it sound as though it were a bad thing,” England rolls his eyes.

We all laugh.

At dinner, I was invited to sit with the King and Queen, in celebration of my arrival. We were having normal dinner but with a special dessert at the end.

England had given me a new set of clothes which looked just like my last one but blue instead of orange and peach. Along with that, he gave me a siut, saying that it was necessary for all men to have a suit, even if they don’t wear it very often.

I changed into the suit, all dark, regal blue-just like everyone else in this Kingdom wears.

I felt something heavy in the pocket and when I pulled it out, it turned out to be a golden watch.

_Was this put here intentionally? What if England forgot to take it out? Should I return it? No, it’s England we’re talking about-he’s very… meticulous._

Shrugging it off and deciding to ask about it later, I hear a knock on the door.

“Come in!” I call.

America steps in, smiling.

“It’s just about time for the dinner and England told me to show you the way.”

“I didn’t forget.” I point out.

He shrugs, “If I don’t do it, well, you know how England is.”

I laugh, “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

America leads me to where the Dining Hall.

When he steps in, me behind him, a loud cheer erupted.

At first I was confused-did they always do this when America entered the room?-but then America motioned to me grandly and it dawned on me.

_They were cheering for me!_

The crowd parts and out steps England, a smile on his face-the same smile you’d give a family member when you were very proud of them.

I smiled in return, just as America whispers in my ear. “It’s customary to escort the Queen up there on arrival. Just the first time you’re here though, not every time, if so there would be several people taking England up there.”

“Why?” I ask.

He shrugs, “Beats me.”

When England stops in front of me he nods and I hold out my arm for him.

England takes it, I walk up to the crowd, a bit surprised that they parted to let the three of us through.

_I’m just not used to it, not that I have to anyways._

The rest of the dinner was spent talking to the King and Queen and everyone around them.

I sat beside America on his left, England on his right and on England’s right was China. 

Romano, the Ace who normally sat elsewhere, was across from the Queen. Across from America and on Romano’s right was a man named Spain.

For some odd reason, there was a turtle on his head-and it wasn’t falling either.

“Why do you have a turtle on your head?” Romano deadpanned.

“I’m not sure, they’ve been following me around all day and this guy managed to make it up there and I didn’t have the heart to take him down.” He said, his accent thick and he spoke fast.

Romano went up to grab the turtle but Spain swatted his hand away.

“No, I like him up there! Can I keep him?”

“No.” Romano said just as America cut in.

“If you want him you can keep him,” America said, a smile on his face.

“Really?” Spain asked, his eyes lighting up as the smile grew on his face.

America shrugs, “England?”

“As long as it doesn’t do anything but sit on your head then whatever.” England said, staring at the turtle quizzically.

Romano rolled his eyes at Spain, turning back to his food.

Sitting across of me was a man with violet eyes, blond, almost pale, colored hair and a smile always on his face. Quite different from the man beside him, who had aqua colored eyes, had shorter hair that was covered mostly by a blue cap and seemed incapable of having any kind of expression other than blankness.

After a small introduction, I learned them to be named Finland and Sweden, or, if I prefered, Tino and Berwald.

 

Third-Person POV:

It seems that, even though the King of Diamonds was captured and later let go, they were still at war.

Although a bit surprised because they had expected them to give up, Hearts and Spades forged on.

There were only about 13 battles over the span of the rest of the month and they were really just Clubs fighting against Spades and Hearts-Diamonds hardly did much (Francis must've been upset over the sudden turn of events), only participating every now and then. The battles weren't very numerous but long, both sides were exhausted by the end of it.

Clubs, begrudgingly, surrendered when Spades and Hearts did the smartest thing anyone could've thought of.

The idea was England’s, to make a decoy of everything in war to make it seem as though they were going one way but in reality, the real troops were headed another way around.

By the time Clubs noticed what was going on, Spades and Hearts were already surrounding them and they were forced to surrender.


	15. Sunday Morning

(Still Third-Person POV)

After the war, Hearts and Spades decided to celebrate their victory. Since America was sick and tired of having to travel to Hearts, England kindly asked if this time they could come to Spades.

They agreed to have a festival for this occasion.

Originally, they had just named it the Spade-Heart festival but as word spread, people were too lazy to say, “the Spade-Heart Festival” so everyone went with calling it "the  _Sparts_ Festival.”

The festival was scheduled to be a week after the war ended-mostly because America was tired of everything and wanted to spend time with his queen.

The festival was to span over three days.

America’s POV:

On Sunday morning, England had to practically drag me out of bed. I was  _really_ dreading going to the festival. It’s not that I disliked the idea of the festival- _I_ came up with the idea of the festival. I just would  _really_  prefer to stay in the room with my arms around England.

But no, England forced me to get dressed under the threat that we wouldn’t have sex for two months.

I caved and got dressed, trying to hold England back for as long as possible by locking him in a deep, passionate kiss. He somehow managed to escape, scolding me for trying to keep him there and not getting dressed.

So I now stood, surrounded by so many people I didn’t even bother to estimate the amount, we said whoever wanted to come could attend. So we had a mix of Spade and Hearts as well as a handful of Diamonds and Clubs.

Germany, Italy, Japan and Holy Roman Empire were all  _supposed_ to come along with England, China, Romano and I. Everyone else coming was by their own will. England was beside me, his eyes taking everything in.

When night fell and we had to turn on all the lights, was when Hearts arrived. I watched as Germany, Japan, Holy Roman Empire stepped out of the carriage. Holy Roman Empire held his hand out for Italy to help him down and I couldn’t stop myself from raising an eyebrow at Italy.

Italy turned a bit red and I laughed.

After the formal greeting, Italy immediately yelled, “America!” And ran towards me. I barely had enough time to open my arms before he attacked me in a hug. 

I laughed once more, already starting to feel better about this festival.

“Hello Italy, it’s nice to see you too,” I said, lifting Italy a bit off his feet.

“I’m here too, you know,” I heard Romano grumble. Italy smiled, letting me go and proceeding to attack his brother in a hug.

“Italy, you’re going to suffocate him.” Germany said. Italy pulled back, still keeping Romano in his arms.

“Oi! Arthur!” I hear behind me and both England and I turn.

A group of 6 people are coming towards us. At first, I don’t recognize them and then it clicks.

_England’s brothers._

I suddenly want to run because from what I’ve heard of them (from England) they aren’t very nice.

“England!” A voice rings out and I recognize it.

“Seala-” England starts to ask but before either of us can process it, Sealand has his arms wrapped around England’s waist.

“Wh-”

“‘Ello chap!” A voice says beside England.

England looks up and glares.

“Shut up Ire-”

“Oi, mate!” Australia suddenly appears, wrapping his arm around England’s shoulders. “Haven’t seen you in a while!”

In a matter of moments, England is surrounded, Sealand still hugging him and refusing to let go.

“America!” England yells.

I laugh nervously and scratch the back of my neck,  _what am I supposed to do?_

I didn’t notice the small exchange that had gone on but then Sealand was dragging England somewhere and then  _I_ was the one surrounded.

_Holy shit, how did England survive like this growing up?_

“Oi mate,” Australia says, his tone serious.

“We just wanted to say something,” the tallest one with red-brown hair continued.

“If you  _ever,_ ” the one I was assuming was Wales said.

“In any way, shape or form,” maybe-Ireland said.

“Hurt him,” Wales says.

“Then we will personally hunt you down to the pits of Hell,” I’m fairly certain Northern Ireland said, smiling widely as though he didn’t just threaten me to death.

“But no worries mate,” Australia says cheerfully, patting my shoulder a bit too hard. “We know you’d never do that.”

“Y-yeah,” I manage to say, still a bit at loss for words.

“You bloody wankers! What do you think you’re doing?” England yells, somehow having escaped from Sealand’s grasp.

Everyone steps away to go attack England or whatever it is they do, leaving me there, my face pale and my hands shaking slightly, still with Australia.

“But seriously, we  _will_ hurt you,” Australia says, his tone serious.

After being yelled at by England again, Australia went with his brothers to go torment England again.

“I knew his brothers could be tough but damn,” Canada says, scaring the living shit out of me.

I start to yell out in shock but hold it back.

“Calm down Alfred, it’s just me.” Canada says, a smirk on his face.

I glare at Canada and he merely laughs.

I turn my attention back to England.

Australia had his arm back around England, poking fun at England’s face, Scotland-I believed to be-was just standing there, a bit stoic. Sealand was running around, tugging at England’s cape annoyingly, Wales, Ireland and Northern Ireland were just laughing really loudly and I’m assuming they were making fun of England. His accent, I think, to be specific.

“Wait, Canada?” I say, it finally hitting me that Canada just spoke and turning to him.

Canada laughs, “Hello America.”

“Matty!” I yell, quite childishly, as England would say.

I pull him into a hug.

“Maybe he is good enough for our little brother England,” I hear behind me.

I pull back and turn to see England, his face bright red, with Scotland ruffling his hair.

“Oi, Canada!” Australia yells.

Somehow, by a sudden change of events, Australia had  _my_ brother in his arms, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“What?” I say, unable to hold it back.

_“Christopher!”_ Canada squealed, trying to get Australia to let go. “My brother is right there and your  _family_ is-”

“I don’t care.” Australia says, pulling Canada forward and pressing his lips against his.

Canada flares a bright red and when I look up, all of England’s brothers (along with him) are staring, jaws dropped.

Australia pulls back but wraps an arm protectively around Canada’s waist.

“So, how’s life?” Australia asks, ignoring my brothers protests to let him go.

_“‘How’s life’, Austr-”_ England starts to say

“‘How’s life’?” Ireland says sarcastically. “Why didn’t you tell us you were with Canada?”

“It’s adorable!” Northern Ireland cuts in.

_“‘Adorable’?_ What do-”

“I agree, I think it’s cute,” Sealand shrugs.

“Oi, you’re too young to be-”

“I’m not  _that_ young!” Sealand protests, cutting England short.

As the Kirklands continue to argue I sidle over to Australia.

“I just wanted to say,” I starts, setting an arm over Australia’s shoulders. “That if you, in any way, shape or form,” I pause slightly. “ _Hurt_ Matty, I will personally hunt you down to the pits of Hell.”

Australia laughs and I join in.

“America, stop.” Canada deadpans.

I roll my eyes at Canada.

“Come on, Australia, let’s go look around.” Canada says, tugging on Australia’s sleeve.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a moment, just go ahead.”

Canada nods, turning and walking away.

“But seriously, I  _will_ hurt you.” I say, my voice low.

Australia laughs again, “I know, I won’t.”

I nod, letting Australia go to follow my brother.

I smile lightly, watching as Canada’s eyes light up when he sees Australia and holds his hand out for him which he takes.

The feeling of someone’s gaze on me has me looking up and I lock eyes with the oldest Kirkland brother, Scotland.

He smirks, his arms crossed before turning away.

_Odd,_ I think.

“Ay, America!” I hear Spain say.

I turn and see Spain a few feet away, waving me over.

With a final glance at England-who looked like he was in his personal Hell-I turn and walk towards Spain.

“Hey Spa-” I start but Romano cuts me off.

“Which is better paella or  _pasta_?” Romano says.

“Should I be picking… pasta?” I ask.

“No, you crazy!” Spain cuts in, “You should be picking paella!”

“Idiota! Pasta is better!” Romano yells.

“Paella!” Spain yells.

“Pasta!” Both the Italies yell.

“America! Which is better?” Italy yells.

I jump,  _Italy hardly ever yells-_ Romano _yells but not Italy._

“Uh, I don’t-”

“No, you  _do_ know because you have eaten both of them.” Romano says.

“So decide.” Italy commands.

“Uh, I can’t-”

“Guys.” I hear suddenly.

We all turn and see China, hands linked with Japan.

“Spain, we all know you love paella, Italy and Italy, we know you both love pasta. Okay? They are both delicious, so stop arguing. There’s no point.”

“But-” Italy starts to protest but stops at the look China gives him.

“Fine,” Italy huffs and both Italians simultaneously cross their arms angrily.

Spain laughs, placing a hand on Romano’s cheek.

“Paella is still better,” he says, leaning forward and lightly kissing Romano.

Romano is too shocked to do anything about it.

A few hours later, I was still with Italy and England hadn’t returned from his family reunion. Italy and I  _maybe_ had had a few drinks and everything was slowly becoming a big blur.

I’m not sure how but Italy and I were a bit separated from the group, crouching behind nothing.

A few feet away were Sweden and Finland, slowly kissing. It had taken quite a bit to get there, a lot of sly compliments and blushing but here they were.

And Italy and I were… being very strange.

“Awww, they’re are  _so_ adorable,” I coo, my hands intertwined in front of my chest.

“I know!” Italy says. “They are just  _so_ perfect for each other!”

Finland pulls back then and his gaze falls on us.

“Shit, we’ve been spotted!” Italy exclaims.

“Run, mate, run!” I yell, grabbing Italy’s arm and running away.

Italy and I manage to make it across the plaza and fall to the ground in exhausted heaps, breathing heavily.

“ _‘Mate’_? Did you really just say  _mate_?” Italy pants.

I shrug, about to speak when a voice above me interrupts.

“Wow, England must be having a heavier affect on you than I thought.” Canada says, his eyebrows raised.

“Hey! I didn’ do anythin’!” England slurs, tipping forward slightly.

I laugh, standing up and stumbling towards England. 

He starts to lean forward precariously but before he can face-plant into the ground, I catch him. England smiles up at me, resting his hands on my chest and I wrap my arms around his waist to have a better hold of him.

“I haven’ seen you all day.” England whines.

 “You were with your brothers,” I shrug.

“Whatever,” England says, grabbing my tie and pulling me forward.

 He pauses for a moment, letting his lips ghost mine and I begin to get impatient. He smirks and I connect our lips, annoyed that he wasn’t doing it himself.

I hear someone-Australia, most likely-whistle and start clapping. Then a bunch of cheering but I ignore it.

One hand on England’s lower back and the other between his shoulder blades, I tip him back slightly.

It isn’t hard for him to almost fall back and become a bit dependent on me to keep from hitting the ground. I smirk down at England whose face had turned red.

I lean down and connect our lips, making the kiss long and passionate. England eventually starts protesting and squirming so I lean back and help him up. Another round of cheers erupts and more drinks are passed out.

The rest of the night was a blur of bright lights, drinks and kisses.

I woke up the next day with a massive hangover, my arms around England’s bare waist, my head buried in the pillows.

“America,” England groans. “Get up, it’s almost time for breakfast.”

“No.” I say firmly, pulling England back into my arms as he had tried to get up.

England stumbles back.

“Let me go Alfred,” England says, trying to pry my arms off of him.

“No.”

He sighs, “Alfred, I have to go draw the bath. Unless, you’d like to have people-”

“Fine,” I groan, slowly dropping my arms.

England gets up and disappears for a moment before he’s back and dragging me to the bath.

That’s how the next two days had gone, going to the festival and leaving it, drunk and hardly capable of remembering much of anything. Waking up like this and going back.

After the third and final day, I was far more than happy with sleeping in all day with England, my arms wrapped protectively around him, around the person I love the most.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! I'm so sorry-as I was revising this story I noticed so many mistakes (like using nation names even if it was a human au, having some of the characters be so out of character and things like that) and I was going to redo it but other than the fact that that would take too much time, I thought it'd end up changing the story entirely so whatever. Anyways, comment what you guys thought, if I missed any errors when revising it, if you happened to like my writing style/stories what you think I should make next (that last one is highly unlikely but I might as well put it out there) and thank you so much for reading.


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